Snackoos and You
by LateNiteSlacker
Summary: Only two things are constantly on Ema’s mind: snackoos and the debonair rock star Klavier Gavin, but what will happen when she meets his brother, Kristoph? Will Klavier actually become… jealous?
1. Prologue

Title: Snackoos and You

Author: LateNiteSlacker

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Not mine, don't Phoenix Wright me.

Summary: Only two things are constantly on Ema's mind: snackoos and the debonair rock star Klavier Gavin, but what will happen when she meets his brother, Kristoph? Will Klavier actually become… jealous?

* * *

Ema didn't always hate Klavier Gavin. Far from it.

When she first met the rock star prosecutor, things had been a little different.

* * *

It was her first day of work, and already she was running late.

"Why, _why_ does this job start so early in the morning?" Ema moaned into a steaming cup of black coffee, wondering when the hot liquid would start doing its job of waking her up.

She glared at the black horizon, then at her wrist watch, debating how long it would be before the sun even came up. In her arms she had all of her necessary belongings: purse, coffee (still not working), instant ramen lunch, and a large box of forensics equipment.

Feeling a little like a mule, she picked up her belongings when the bus arrived at her stop and began a short .5 mile sprint down the street.

Ema tried to see around the large box in front of her, but somehow she missed the man in front of her, crashing into him at full speed.

As they both toppled over, Ema felt the world slow around her, watching all of her precious forensics supplies fly into the air around them.

He rescued her coffee before it landed. "A simple 'hello' would have been fine, fräulein." He smirked, not moving from below her as he murmured, "though I _love_ your enthusiasm."

Embarrassed beyond belief, she felt her cheeks heat up. "I'm so sorry!" She stammered, scrambling off the man, scurrying to pick up her belongings. Most of her supplies were still intact, but her fingerprinting powder had fallen all over the ground. She nearly cried when she saw her cracked bottle of luminol, its contents spilled on the concrete.

"_Small reaction_," she noted, wondering why the luminol would detect blood on the pavement if she wasn't hurt. Then it hit her.

_He _must have been hurt.

"Oh my gosh!" Ema exclaimed, looking closer at the man for the first time.

He had blonde hair, twisted off to his left side, which fell over a stylishly long plum suit jacket. His black button down shirt was overshadowed by a strange metal symbol he hung around his neck via a metal chain. His black pants were also garnished with a similar chain belt.

On closer inspection, she noticed that his hand had been scraped, just a hint of blood pooling by the injury.

She took his hand, horrified as she examined the damage. "I… I'm so sorry… give me a sec, I might have a Band-Aid in my purse…"

Nonchalantly, he flipped his golden hair back, offering her coffee back to her. "It's ok, I had to rescue your coffee after all."

He had hurt himself over coffee? Shocked, Ema accepted her coffee back, then dug in her purse until she found a small band-aid for him.

"Why thank you," he said, placing the bandage over the cut. Afterwards, he held out his hand to her again.

"Is… is something else wrong?" She asked, grabbing his hand quickly and examining it once more.

"Such an adorable fräulein!" He smirked. "Nothing, just that I do not yet know your name."

"My… oh." Ema felt her cheeks flush again. _Stupid stupid, so stupid. _Awkwardly, she shook his hand. "I'm Ema Skye."

"Ema Skye, it is a pleasure to meet you," he said, bringing her hand to his lips.

"_Is he going to…_" Ema wondered, noticing now that he did seem to have a foreign accent, though she could swear that it sounded more German than French, but weren't French people the ones who…

He placed a soft kiss on her hand, smiling in that charming way again. "May we meet again soon, fräulein Skye."

It wasn't until after he waved goodbye, leaving her holding all her belongings alone in the street again that a thought occurred to her.

What was _his_ name?


	2. Day 1

_Day 1_

_Time: 6:00 AM_

_Mental state: Pretty OK_

_Weight: 125 lbs._

_Mood: LATE!_

Ema arrived at the Los Angeles Police Department a half hour late. Oddly, nobody seemed to notice or care.

She had been frustrated when she failed her test and even more bitter when she had been forced to find work as something other than a forensic scientist. But today, she was putting her best foot forward, determined to make the best of the situation she was in.

"Ema Skye?" A friendly, yet scruffy looking man met her at the door. For some reason, he seemed very familiar.

"Yes, that's me," Ema held out her hand. "And you are?"

"Detective Dick Gumshoe," Gumshoe shook her hand warmly and beamed. "We'll be working together on a couple of cases until you know the ropes. But first, a tour of the office!"

Of course! Ema remembered him now, and all of the ins and outs of the police department, including the restricted police chief's room that had been such a big part of her life a few short years ago.

Even so, Ema allowed herself to be shown around the department, their journey ending with the familiar Blue Badger dancing in the corner of what was an already small office.

Gumshoe stopped, indicating towards a small cubicle furnished with a computer, trash can, and a small metal sign displaying her name. "Well, this is your desk, _detective_ Skye."

Detective. Even though it wasn't her intended profession, Ema couldn't help but feel a little prideful as she accepted the badge and gun. Although, she was slightly curious as to why _Gumshoe_ was the one giving her these things.

Pushing away her skepticism, Ema gratefully accepted both, pocketing the badge and allowing Gumshoe to show her how to wear the firearm.

That weapon… metal…. destructive… _lethal_…

Ema couldn't help it anymore. "Shouldn't I have to take a class or have training or _something_ before I get a firearm?"

Gumshoe scratched his head, the wheels in his head slowly… _slowly_… turning. "Gee pal, I guess you're right." With a sad look he took back the gun.

Feeling a little sorry for raining on his parade, Ema brandished her badge again. "But it's really cool that you have my badge all ready! You even spelled my name right, with one 'm'!"

Gumshoe grinned, looking like he had just won a gold medal in the Olympics. "That's right pal! How could I forget you after that last case? You really helped Mr. Edgeworth out of a tight spot."

Edgeworth.

Immediately, an image of the famed prosecutor flashed in her mind. Though her memory of some of the incidents in her sister Lana's case had faded with time, she could still see the dejected look on his face during the trial and forced smile he had given her afterwards. It didn't take a genius to figure out that all was not well with him.

She wondered if he still wore his trademark maroon suit and classic cravat.

"How is Edgeworth?" She chanced the question, recalling the close affiliation Gumshoe once had with the prosecutor.

Gumshoe's face fell, and he looked up at her now with sad dopey eyes. "He's not here anymore. A few years ago, he left for Europe again."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories," Ema said, feeling bad that he looked so miserable.

Gumshoe waved it off. It seemed like he was trying his best to look cheerful. "It's ok. He came back for a couple years to prosecute again and he still visits every now and then."

At first, Ema wondered why he would visit the police station and prosecutor's office when he came back. Then she remembered it was Edgeworth.

A small smile touched her lips. His dedication was admirable.

Before Ema could comment, Gumshoe's expression seemed to truly brighten. "But, now we have another prosecutor that was famous before he even started prosecuting!"

Famous? Ema wondered what this prosecutor would be like. "What…"

Before she could even ask, he guessed what her next question was going to be. "Klavier Gavin's a rock star! We'll be working with him on our next case." The detective smiled, chuckling occasionally for apparently no reason.

Slightly weirded out, she didn't comment.

Ema didn't have much experience with rock stars, but like it or not, she found herself dragged to the prosecutor's office. The familiar hallways began to come back to her, and she found her feet carrying her to Edgeworth's office. But when she opened the door…

Everything was gone.

Edgeworth's desk, chess set, tea cups, and even the frilly suit he had framed on the wall. All gone.

In their places, a large amplifier that _could_ have been a desk sat along the entire length of the room. The walls were adorned with various guitars, and the ceilings had three large flat screen TVs installed into them. One of them was trained on the Nickelodeon channel.

Ema couldn't say why, but for some reason, the room upset her.

"…pal?" Gumshoe had apparently been talking this whole time. "I mean, he's usually here. Well I've got some stuff to do, can you wait here and give this to him? Thanks!"

A large manila envelope was shoved in her hands. Ema quickly found herself alone in the mysterious prosecutor's room.

Realizing that she had been delegated busy-work already, Ema sighed and took a seat across from the televisions. It didn't look like she would be going anywhere anytime soon.

Ema's eyes flitted between the weather channel, the Gilmore girls, and the Avatar.

"…high of 78 and it is a beautiful day…"

"…I'd love to meet your wife, though." "I'm divorced." "Shame." "Yeah."

"100 years passed, and my brother and I found the _new_ avatar…"

Realizing that she left her coffee (that still wasn't working) back at the police department, Ema decided that it wouldn't be so bad if she just… laid across the other chair… nobody would care…

* * *

_Time: The sun's up._

_Mental state: Nonexistent_

_Mood: Buh…_

"Fräulein Skye?"

Ema's startled eyes snapped open, and she heard herself make an embarrassing "Waa!" sound as she sat up, trying to rub the drool off her cheek and fix her hair at the same time.

Groggily she looked around the unfamiliar room, suddenly remembering where she was. When the sleepy-fog finally dissipated, her eyes focused on a familiar looking gentleman. "Ohmygosh it's you!"

It was the man she had horribly abused in the street earlier that day, crashing into him and making him bleed for _her_ coffee, which didn't really help anyway, and now he must be coming back for her to sue her or something, because why else would he be in a prosecutor's office…

"Are you feeing all right?" The blonde haired man took a seat next to her, looking at her with playful yet concerned eyes.

"Yes," she finally decided to voice. "The Gilmore Girls was on and I just…"

The man chuckled. "Understandable, but I assume you're here for a reason, ja?"

"Yes, I have to deliver this…" Ema held up the slightly drooled on envelope. "…to Prosecutor Gavin."

He gave her a quizzical look, as if he was mentally debating something important. Finally, the man sat back in his chair, looking at her and smirking softly. "Why don't you just put it on his desk? I'm sure he doesn't want it yet anyway."

Ema wondered just _how_ this guy knew prosecutor Gavin, but decided not to argue. When she walked over to the mostly tidy desk, placing the package on top of the in-box, she noticed something strange.

"Snackoos?" She murmured, finding it odd that the brown sugar flavored snacks were sitting on top of the piles of paper on Gavin's desk. "I used to love those when I was a kid."

"Karinto?" he asked, observing the actual name of the product on Gavin's desk.

Ema smiled apologetically. "Yes, but when I was little, I always called them 'snackoos.' My older sister never corrected me, and I guess it just stuck."

The blonde haired man seemed amused by her story. "Take them."

"What?" Ema frowned, turning towards the man again, her fingers just inches away from the bag. "But they're Gavin's…"

"I'll buy him another bag," he responded easily, chuckling softly. "Go ahead and have them, my treat."

Not one to deny free food, Ema snatched the bag, popping one into her mouth. They were just as tasty as she remembered.

Suddenly, and Ema really couldn't say _why_ she felt this way, she was very aware that she was alone in a room with a guy. Nervous butterflies fluttered in her stomach, to her annoyance. He was sorta cute, he'd saved her coffee, and he'd given her snackoos.

And yet, she still didn't know his name.

She leaned against the desk, finishing her snackoo. "Do you _have_ a name, or is there a reason you haven't told me yours yet?"

The man sat forward in his chair, an ominous twinkle in his eye. "Well, fräulein _detective_, let's see if you can figure it out."

Ema wasn't sure what she expected after that line. Anything from a word puzzle to a hot make-out session wouldn't have surprised her, but she certainly didn't expect this.

Air guitar. He started playing air guitar.

"What the hell? Are you seri—" she started to say, but was quickly shushed by the 'rocker' in front of her.

The blonde haired man seemed so into it, his fingers moving quickly up and down the "guitar" like he really knew how to play. Surely this was a joke, he would stop sometime soon, right?

Wrong.

After a minute, her patience wore thin, and she walked up to him, her arms folded across her chest. "You know, I told you _my_ name without playing air guitar. You can too."

Ignored.

"You… whoever you are… have got to be kidding me!" She sputtered. "Just tell me your name!"

Ignored again.

Ema looked away from him with exasperation, wondering why he wasn't playing one of the guitars on the wall. There were certainly enough of them, and he _had_ to know that real guitars were far more impressive.

After about five minutes, she watched with excitement as he raised the neck of the guitar and finished the solo. Finally he was done!

She opened her mouth to speak, when he looked at her, an evil glimmer in his eyes. "Verse two."

Without hesitation, he dove back into the second verse.

Ema couldn't believe it! Who would be this self centered and arrogant?! Who would subject someone to this torture?

Her fingers curled around the bag of snackoos with frustration, and she suddenly remembered that they were in her hand. Realizing that if she had to pass this time, she may as well enjoy a snack, her hand plunged into the bag, retrieving a brown sugar coated snackoo. She sighed, and tossed it into her mouth. "_He'd better stop before my bag is gone._"

He didn't.

Ema munched on a snackoo.

She munched _louder_ on her snackoos.

She munched _louder and faster_ on her snackoos.

Somewhere in there, she even tried throwing a snackoo at him, receiving no reaction.

And then… they were gone.

Frustrated with the world, she stormed away from the man, sitting in the cushy chair at Klavier Gavin's desk. Surely, he would come back at some point and make this crazy man leave.

She had to wonder again, _who _was this guy and _why_ was he making her suffer? Did he have some vendetta against her for crashing into him? Was it because he had found her sleeping…?

Ema gasped, her former thoughts scattered as she finally noticed something on the neatly cluttered desk.

It was an angular metal picture frame. Inside the frame was a picture of the man who sat in front of her now…

…rocking out on a stage with the Gavinners banner behind him. Playing lead guitar.

_His office.__ This is his office… and he's…_

The realization felt as heavy as if all the legal books in Phoenix Wright's office had been dumped on top of her.

He had been toying with her this whole time! Since they met, he had been messing with her!

Indignantly, and probably childishly, she slammed the empty bag of snackoos on his desk. The man looked up, raising the air guitar in what she would later find to be one of his trademark finishes.

"So fräulein detective, have you figured it out?" He smiled in a stupid foppish way.

Ema marched lividly up to him, her hands again on her hips, and growled. "_Klavier Gavin_, I hate you!"

She left without waiting for a response.

* * *

_Time: 2:05 PM_

_Mental state: Slightly annoyed_

_Mood: Grumpy_

That afternoon, Gumshoe dragged her to the courtroom. He had to testify in that day's trial, and he wanted her to see what it was like. Apparently, he seemed to have forgotten that not only did she herself testify not long ago, but she had also helped Phoenix Wright with the harrowing defense of her sister.

The happy, dopey look on his face told her that he had forgotten.

Since they arrived early, they were able to sit on the prosecution's side of the courtroom. Not long after, Ema found herself crushed against the side railing as flocks of young girls filled the stands.

_Screaming_ young girls.

Ema composed herself, determined not to let the screaming fangirls get to her. This was a courtroom, surely they would have to behave soon.

She had been a detective for an entire seven hours now. She had been wrong five times already. This would be the sixth.

The noise only swelled louder when _he_ walked into the courtroom.

_"OMG it's HIM!!"_

_"THE GAVINNERS ROCK!!"_

_"KLAVIER I LOVE YOU!!1!!"_

Was this… _really_… happening?

Just when she thought she couldn't take it any longer, _he_ turned around. The famed fop, Klavier Gavin himself.

"Thank you! I don't deserve such beautiful fans!" He said to the girls, smiling as he toyed with the bangs of his hair.

Oh _please_! This was a courtroom, not one of his concerts!

"Since you've been so kind, I have something to give back to you," Klavier continued to grin as he surveyed the stands. Ema could swear that his eyes fell on her and stayed there for a couple of seconds. With a smirk, he began to toss things into the crowd. One of them came straight for her.

Not wanting to be hit in the head, Ema shielded herself, but found that the fanatic fan sitting next to her had already stood up in front of her, grabbing whatever the hell it was.

"OMG OMG OMG!! CAN YOU BELIEVE I GOT ONE?!" said fanatic fan #1.

Fanatic fan #2 replied, "WOW THAT'S SO COOL LET ME SEE!!"

Admittedly, Ema was curious herself, and she leaned over to see just _what _Klavier had decided to throw into the crowd.

She nearly gagged with disgust. "An autographed picture of _himself??_"

The girls around her were squealing more than barnyard animals, and she knew that if they didn't stop soon she would have to murder someone. Or herself.

The sharp sound of a gavel falling rang through the courtroom, quieting everyone.

"Court is now in session for the trial of Mr. Dublonge…"

Ema tuned out most of the rest.

* * *

_Time: 4:55_

_Mood: Stay away._

In the end, Klavier had won a fairly easy victory and had hastily left the scene before his fans could get the better of him.

Ema had endured a trial of being shoved in the side railings every time Klavier did so much as _speak_. His fangirls were high pitched and whiney, and Ema wanted nothing so much as to go home and sleep off the headache they had created.

Such was not her luck, however. Just as she left the courtroom, she was pulled aside.

"So what'd you think, pal? I did a pretty good job back there, didn't I?" Gumshoe asked.

Besides the fact that Gumshoe had forgotten to mention that Mr. Dublonge had once been _Mrs. _Dublonge and had an affair with the victim…

"You weren't too terrible." Ema found herself saying, then quickly adjusted. "I mean, it really could have been much worse."

Gumshoe moped after that, but Ema found that she just didn't care anymore. She was done with this day, and quite frankly, she was ready to be done with this job.

* * *

That evening, Ema treated herself to an extra bowl of ramen noodles.

She slouched down on her second-hand futon-couch in a grey tank-top and cozy pants, balancing the noodles precariously on her thankfully flat stomach. Between picking at the noodles, she flipped the channels with the remote idly.

Weather channel, Gilmore Girls, and the Avatar.

Ema laughed bitterly. Who would have thought? It seemed that even her own television had turned against her.

She hit the power button and flung the remote back onto the other side of the couch.

Why had this happened? Why was her first day on the job so miserable?

Klavier Gavin. It was all _his_ fault.

She pouted, slurping her noodles. Gavin had run into _her_, right? And he had _embarrassed_ her, and he had _mocked_ her, and he had played _a hellish half hour of air guitar…_

…for her?

"It's because he revels in my agony." Ema grumpily murmured, convincing herself. Deciding that the noodles had become unappetizing, slid the half-full bowl onto the rickety wooden table she kept in front of her 'couch.'

Reaching a bit farther onto the table, she picked up a black leather bound book, removing the small black pen attached to it.

She leafed through pages of her own handwriting until she came to the next blank page.

_Time: 8:57 PM_

_Mental state: Stable_

_Mood: Mopey_

_Klavier Gavin is an arrogant self-centered jerk who carries around pre-signed photos of himself!_

She wrote angrily into the book, then paused.

And yet, when they first met, somehow she had felt differently about him. He hadn't seemed mean-spirited, or rude, or like an egotistical bastard.

_Correction.__ Klavier Gavin has **become** an arrogant self-centered jerk._

What had changed? How had that kind and semi-cute mysterious man transformed into this horrid amalgam of undesirable traits?

_Because he is Klavier Gavin.__ The rock-star prosecutor with a bigger ego than the state of California and more rabid fangirls than the entire Final Fantasy cast has combined. _

Yeah, that was probably it.

Through the day, Ema had already detailed several events in her journal, but somehow, the pages seemed to be filling themselves with nothing but Gavin.

Just how many pages had she already written? She flipped back, frowning at the numerous times "Klavier Gavin" appeared in the book.

She blew an exasperated sigh, tossing the journal back onto the table. She flopped down on the futon and pulled her pillow close to herself. Why couldn't she ever find a nice _normal_ guy?

Edgeworth was a pretty normal guy. Aside from that whole thinking he killed his own father thing. Why couldn't the guy who supplanted his room (a certain not-to-be-named rock star) be more like that refined prosecutor?

Ema had a feeling that this was the start of something unavoidable and terrible.

As she closed her eyes, she decided that more than anything she wanted to never go back to work as a detective again.

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

If you're reading this, then thank you for reading my fic so far! As you may have guessed, there is much to come soon, including the introduction of Kristoph, Phoenix, and many more.

Thank you to Link for helping beta, and thank you to those of you who love and write Klavier/Ema. I can't say what an inspiration the other fics on this site have been for me.

Oh yeah, if you liked this fic or have anything you think I should fix, please **review**! :)


	3. Day 2: Breakfast

_Day 2_

_Time: 5:30 AM_

_Weight: 123 lbs._

_Mood: Wary_

Somehow, she found herself back on the early commute bus again the next morning.

She had ordered her coffee extra black and scalding hot, but still, no dice.

That morning, she kept a leery eye out for gallivanting prosecutors during her half mile trek from the bus stop to the police station, but she found that none came her way.

Ema Skye was a whirlwind when she entered the office, sweeping past everyone and delivering masterfully crafted antagonizing glowers whenever anyone looked her way. She was vaguely aware of Gumshoe's presence only after she had sat down at her desk.

"Ema there's been a call at the intersection of Main and 19th street," he said, urging her out of her seat.

"Already? Shouldn't people be sleeping right now? Who in their _right mind_ is out there committing crimes?" she grumbled.

"I don't know, pal, but I hope we never have to meet them." Gumshoe replied, making Ema wonder just how reliable he was as a police officer.

Seeing that she had no other choice, she followed him into the squad car.

They arrived at the same time as a certain prosecutor.

A tirade of angry sounding German words followed him as he persecuted the police officers that had already arrived on the scene. "You _what?!_"

Ema nearly laughed. He seemed like a completely different Klavier. "Oh, if his fans could see him now."

"Oh trust me, he's worse after concerts."

"Who said that?" Ema asked, turning around. She nearly collided with a very long and incredibly impractical pompadour.

The man in front of her had ridiculously long black hair that pointed forward at least a foot in front of him. His clothing was peculiar and reminded Ema of a shark for some reason.

"Detective Daryan Crescend, international affairs," the detective responded, not offering his hand, but instead fluffing his hair.

_Weiiiiiiiirdo__._

"Ema Skye." She responded. As an afterthought, she added, "Detective on the scene."

Ema found herself feeling increasingly more uncomfortable around this guy and attempted to find a way to get away from him. Gumshoe seemed to have magically disappeared. Thinking of the detective, her brows knit with confusion. "If Gumshoe and I are already here, why are you?"

"Technically because illegally smuggled substances are involved, but between you and me," the guy leaned closer, "because Klavier is ready to _kill_ someone."

She was still creeped out by Daryan, but she had to agree. The prosecutor was on fire. What she could only assume were German swear words echoed through the building.

The enraged German words grew closer… and closer… and ….

"_Daryan__!_" A very upset looking Klavier was on top of them in a heart-beat. "Even _your_ flunkies are ruining the crime scene now, go deal with them."

The shark-like detective jumped, looking just a bit apprehensive before he composed himself, fluffing his hair again. "Ok Klavier, just cool it. Don't shit a kitten. I'll put them _under my control…_"

Daryan looked expectantly at Klavier, and finally, the other smirked back, "_in charge of your soul…_"

"_Guilty Love!_" They both sang at the same time, busting into five second air guitar riffs.

Somehow they both knew when to simultaneously stop, and when they did, Daryan walked away to deal with the mess. Good riddance.

Ema wasn't sure what to expect when Klavier turned to her. Hopefully, not a continuation of their air guitar session.

"Want to get breakfast?" His question sounded more like a statement. Indeed, he clasped her hand and pulled her away from the crime scene before she could even respond.

"Wait, what?!" She was confused. Very confused. "Shouldn't I be investigating the crime scene?"

"It's fräulein _detective_ today, hmm?" He chuckled, continuing to lead her out of the building and down the street. "Daryan will handle it. Come, I know a great place."

However, where Klavier led her was not to the so-called "great place."

He lead her to his motorcycle.

Ema folded her arms. "All right, glimmer-boy. What kind of joke is this?"

"Glimmer-boy? That's a new one." Klavier smiled his Mr. Charming smile as he handed her a spare helmet and answered her question. "It's no joke. The place is a bit far on foot."

"Right." She said sarcastically, eyeing the helmet doubtfully. "You just want to take me for a joy-ride and hope that I squeal like one of your silly fangirls and grab your 6-pack and admire your body and suggest that we do something besides breakfast."

Klavier eyed her earnestly, as if he were sizing up her words. Eventually, he cracked a smirk. "No, actually, I just wanted breakfast. But you seem to have thought quite a bit about it."

Ema froze, suddenly feeling a flush of embarrassment coming on. In an attempt to hide the blush, she put the helmet over her head, thankful that it had a tinted face. "Fine. Breakfast. Just breakfast."

She allowed herself to be helped onto the motorcycle and wrapped her arms snugly around Klavier's waist after he started the engine.

Ema determinedly held in a yelp when he took off, zooming away at something far past the speed limit.

She kept her eyes trained on the road ahead of them, debating what would be less likely to cause her death, jumping off the motorcycle, or staying on.

She didn't have to think about it too long, because they pulled to an abrupt stop moments later. Ema jumped off the cycle, the world swaying around her.

When Klavier appeared next to her, she threw his helmet back at him. "Where did you learn to drive?!"

"Germany," he replied matter-of-factly. "Why, too fast for you?"

She didn't know what they did in Germany, or more precisely, what _Klavier _did in Germany, but she certainly hoped she wouldn't have to live through that again.

Stubbornly, she folded her arms across her chest. "No."

"Good, then you won't mind the ride back."

That wasn't fair. That was _cheating!_

Before she could protest, he was already sweeping past her, holding open the door to what appeared to be a quaint breakfast establishment.

The restaurant interior was decorated in an old fashioned country kitchen theme. Faded blue cloth curtains with similarly faded white lace rimming adorned the window by the table they were guided to. The table itself was made of a lightly stained wood, complimented with squishy yet comfy chairs.

The morning sun had just begun to stream through the windows, casting a soft warm glow around the 'kitchen.' Ema noted that it lightened Klavier's already blonde hair, making it seem as though he had a halo of light around him.

Surely, he'd love that.

As she seated herself across from him, Ema suddenly felt uncomfortable again, though the atmosphere was quite pleasant in the establishment.

Sure, he was a rock star fop, and she did so despise that about him. But he was still her _boss_. Sort of. Ema wasn't exactly sure about how that worked yet.

She was pretty sure though. And this entire arrangement seemed a hell of a lot like a _date_…

Determinedly, Ema looked anywhere else but at him.

Small vase of flowers. Sugar packets. Salt and pepper. The usual.

"I always found this… _Splenda_… disgusting," Klavier commented, poking the baby yellow packet that she was staring at.

_Why_ was he talking about artificial sweetener? "Why do you have to be such a freak?"

Ema paused, wondering which of her inner monologues she had voiced.

They blinked at each other for a few seconds. Apparently, she had voiced the wrong one.

The moment grew longer, and she began to feel even more awkward. Why did she always say such stupid things when she was nervous?!

Klavier rested his elbow on the table, toying with the wisps of blonde hair in front of his face, a soft smirk resting on his lips. "Such spirit! Mein Gott, du bist schön…"

Certain that he was swearing at her in that weird language, Ema squirmed in her seat, fidgeting with the ends of the tablecloth. It was a relief when the waiter arrived, delivering their long awaited menus.

Ema quickly immersed herself in the menu. She noted that prices were a little higher than she would have liked but were still affordable and settled on a ham omelet with hash browns.

Klavier ordered bacon pancakes.

"Bacon… pancakes?" She questioned after their waiter had left. "Pancakes with a side of bacon, right?"

"Nein!" He happily explained. "Pancakes with bacon _in_ them."

"Is that supposed to be some sort of lewd innuendo?" She eyed him warily.

Klavier arched an eyebrow, a teasing grin on his face. "Do you want it to be?"

He was impossible! Ema pouted, folding her arms across her chest defiantly. "N-No! Why would you think—!"

She was certain that she was flushed now, purely out of anger. This time she didn't have the luxury of a motorcycle helmet to cover it.

"It was a joke, fräulein Skye," he murmured. "Sie sind liebenswert, wenn Sie wütend."

That was it.

"Stop! Just... stop it!" Ema blurted out, feeling like she was physically in pain.

Klavier blinked at her innocently."Stop what?"

"What, are you _serious??_" She snapped at him, but when she saw him innocently blinking, she sighed. "You're in _America_ now, not everyone here speaks German."

It took him less than a moment to respond, but in that short time, she could see the mischief in his eyes. She hated him already.

"Fräulein Skye ist wütend?" He grinned. "Ich liebe es, wenn Sie wütend."

That was the last straw.

"_Klavier!__ I…_" She was about to stand up from the table, but the waiter arrived again, bearing glasses of orange juice.

"You ordered these earlier right? Sorry we don't have your breakfast up yet, it'll be here soon." She curtly delivered the orange juice and left.

Ema was stuck between pondering just _how_ a restaurant could already almost have their food prepared when they had just ordered and wanting to slap Klavier Gavin.

And just when had they ordered orange juice?

In the end, she settled for sipping her orange juice and glaring at the fop across from her as he nonchalantly drank his juice.

"Fräulein Skye," Klavier began, likely sensing her anger. "this is only your second day on the job, ja?"

"_Ja__!_" Ema spat the word back at him, sliding her glass aside.

"And it only took you one day to hate me. This is quite the record!" He marveled.

"Well," Ema began, listing off reasons on her fingers with fervor. "_maybe_ if you didn't _crash _into people and play_ air guitar _for a_ half hour_ and have stupid_ squealing fangirls_ and carry around_ self autographed _pictures of_ yourself_ and speak in_ German _all the time and force people to ride your_ motorcycle_ I wouldn't be angry!"

She finished, finding that she was breathing heavily from either the effort or her own fury.

Klavier didn't say anything. Ema wanted to pretend that he looked shocked and surprised, but he didn't. His expression was placid, perhaps even slightly bemused, as he played with the golden wisps of hair in front of his face.

Ema didn't know what to make of it. Had she finally said too much? Was this going to be another repeat of her college sociology class where she "voiced her opinion" so many times that the professor had her thrown from the class?

Maybe it would be better if he made her quit. She was still young. She could find another job that didn't involve foppish rockstars.

"Fr-Miss Skye…" Klavier began. Here it came…

He was interrupted by a plate, thrust in front of his face. "Bacon Pancakes!"

Ema's food was thrown quickly in front of her as well. "Omelet and hash!"

That was fast. Ema poked her omelet with her fork, but found that it was completely cooked. And delicious.

Their former conversation was lost quickly in favor of a scrumptious breakfast.

She tossed down hers speedily and found herself actually waiting for Klavier to finish.

"Bacon pancakes…" she murmured, still eyeing the gooey yet crispy mess doubtfully.

Klavier smirked, "Try it. You might find you like it." He cut her a far too generous slice and flipped it over onto her plate.

The pancake stared at her.

She stared back.

"It won't bite," she heard Klavier say teasingly while her eyes were still trained to the pancake.

"That's my job, right?" She finished the weak joke for him, finally picking up the piece with her fork.

Debating if she should hold her nose, she sniffed the pancake. It _smelled_ ok. It _looked_ ok. Maybe it would taste…

Fantastic. It was the perfect combination of salty and sweet.

"Like them?"

His voice drew her attention back to the prosecutor. "I thought you might, since you enjoy snackoos."

Klavier Gavin had finished and was sitting back in his chair, watching her attentively. Something about him seemed just a little different than when they first entered the restaurant, but Ema couldn't place what it was.

What had happened to that comfortable anger she had just minutes ago? Things had seemed normal and entirely non-threatening when she was reaming Klavier out. But now he was looking at her differently with those soft blue eyes and he wasn't doing anything stupid to make her upset.

Just what was she supposed to do?

"You have good taste in pancakes," Ema said, wondering immediately afterwards why she had said it. What did that have to do with _anything_? Why was this odd anxious feeling back?

Ema did what she always did when she said something strange. She tried to make it better. "And restaurants. This place is really nice. It's got this homey kitchen atmosphere like my grandma's house. And they serve food really quickly here. I'm not really sure what was up with the orange juice, but that was fast too, and…"

_Tried_ was really the key word.

"Ema Skye, you are adorable," he smiled, but it wasn't his typical foppish smirk. "I think we are going to make a great team."

"_Team?_" she wondered to herself while somewhere in the back of her mind it registered that he had called her by her first name. (And adorable.)

Oh well. What was the big deal with that anyway? They were in the United States of America; it was normal to call someone by their first name! (And adorable…?)

Work. He was talking about work. Feeling a little bit more at ease with the topic, she smiled back, "Of course we will! I'm a forensic scientist after all."

"Oh you are?" Klavier leaned forward with interest.

"Well, I should be anyway," Ema admitted. "That's what I went to school for, though it's not where I am now. Someday I intend to make it there."

When the check arrived, Klavier took it without a second thought. After glancing at it briefly, he dug into his pocket and retrieved a small wallet with the same insignia he wore around his neck. He handed the waitress a sum of cash Ema couldn't readily identify and murmured, "Keep the change."

The waitress appeared flattered, thanked them, and left.

Once she disappeared around the corner, Klavier turned his attention back to Ema. "Fräulein Skye—" he began then stopped, shaking his head lightly. "Sorry, this is a tough habit to break…"

Had Klavier just _apologized?_

"That's ok," Ema quickly interjected, for some reason feeling more than willing to forgive him for using that unintelligible language right now. "What does fräulein mean?"

"It means 'Miss,'" he explained, smiling apologetically.

"Oh," she replied, feeling a little down now that the mystery of the word was gone. At least it didn't mean something far worse. "I guess I don't mind if you use fräulein then. What did everything else you said this morning mean?"

Klavier appeared thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged, "I'm not sure when I used German. It just happens sometimes. Why don't you ask me next time?"

Next time? Ema had a bad feeling about that, but she found herself nodding.

It suddenly occurred to her that she should probably offer to pay or thank him for breakfast. She reached for her purse. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it, I _forced_ you to come here on my motorcycle, after all," he smirked.

"That's right, you did," her face paled. "…and we still have a trip ahead of us."

Klavier chuckled, "Why so we do!"

Ema sighed, "We should probably get back, shouldn't we? The boss will be upset if we leave for too long."

"The only thing that will drive me mad is if Daryan hasn't done his job yet," Klavier muttered, finally standing up from the table and confirming for Ema that he truly was 'the boss.'

Taking the cue, Ema rose as well, gathering her purse and walking out of the restaurant.

It almost seemed like a normal motorcycle ride this time. Klavier didn't take turns at 400 mph, and the feeling of the wind rushing around her was actually quite pleasant.

Maybe she had misjudged Klavier. Maybe there was more to him than the foppish glimmer-boy she had imagined.

Klavier parked his motorcycle conveniently on the sidewalk right outside the crime scene. She handed back the motorcycle helmet again, waiting to see what would happen next.

"Before we go back, there is something I want to give you…" Klavier began digging into his pockets.

What could he possibly want to give her? Ema had a strange feeling that something would happen very soon… something…

"I noticed that you didn't get one yesterday," Klavier grinned and handed her something, ducking quickly back into the building. "See you inside!"

…something that would make her _hate_ Klavier Gavin.

It was a self autographed picture of himself.

"Wha-_uurgh__!_" As much as she wanted to crumple the picture and throw it away, she found herself angrily stowing it away in her purse with a quick shove. She was certain she would need the evidence someday.

"Once a glimmer-boy, always a glimmer-boy," she grumbled, then trudged in after him.

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

My apologies go out to anyone out there that actually speaks German. I don't. At all. I'll admit that all of Klavier's German lines were directly translated by Google translator, but for the sake of the story, I felt that a little sacrifice was necessary. If it bothers you though, please suggest corrections and I'll correct them accordingly.

Chapter 3 is done! Writing this has made me happy. Review if it makes you happy. :)


	4. Day 2: Lunch

_Time: 10:30 AM_

_Mood: Agitated_

Ema had always found playing detective with Phoenix Wright to be a lot of fun. Even though her older sister had been on trial, she had enjoyed traveling from scene to scene, collecting and examining evidence with the friendly and lovable Phoenix.

Detective work with Klavier was another story.

He was demanding, tended to slip into that nonsense language frequently, and worst of all…

…everywhere they went, there were _fangirls_.

"Now now, I can't sign _there_…" Ema heard Klavier say with a laugh while she waited on the doorstep of the suspect's home.

Deciding that he was taking too long, she threw open the door, beginning the investigation on her own.

By the time Klavier ducked into the house, Ema had already discovered papers with the suspect's fingerprints on them that documented his plans for murder.

"All done, Mr. Rockstar," Ema said, carefully dropping the evidence into a plastic bag with a pair of tweezers. She jiggled the bag like she was taunting a bull. "This case is in the bag."

"Terrible pun, but beautiful work," Klavier nodded, and after little deliberation, decided to leave…

…just to be swarmed by the fangirls outside again.

Ema pressed her eyes shut, rubbing her tired lids. "_When_ is this nightmare going to end?"

After waiting five minutes for Klavier to finish, she decided to take the bus back to the precinct without him.

* * *

Ema filled out a few papers once she arrived at the police department. Gumshoe annoyed her a bit, and she talked to Lana on the phone, agreeing to meet her later for lunch.

She glanced at her clock.

11:00… she didn't suppose anyone would mind if she put her head down on the desk for just a little bit……….

* * *

_Time: ??_

_Mood: buh…_

_Wake up…_

_Wake up…._

"Wake up fräulein detective…"

That voice. Ema recognized it immediately, sitting up sharply at her desk, a stray sticky-note drool-plastered to her cheek. Still slightly dazed and confused, she didn't flinch away as a tender hand gingerly picked the note off her face.

Ema blinked, shaking her head to wake herself up. Slowly the foreign surrounding of her new office came into view. The small confines of her shoebox cubicle space, her already overly cluttered desk, and…

Her eyes narrowed. Prosecutor Klavier Gavin stood mirthfully in front of her, dressed in his typical plum and black rock-star prosecutor attire. His blue-grey eyes sparkled as he read her note. Slightly annoyed, she grumbled, "_You_? Why are you…"

"Don't forget 12:30 appointment," he murmured, then glanced at the clock on her desk. As he leaned over, holding the note out to her, the sound of his belt chains and that gaudy Gavinners G necklace he always wore clanged through the tiny office. "Sorry detective, it seems you've missed your engagement."

Lunch with Lana. The missed appointment hit her like a cold splash of water in the face.

She knew her sister would be furious with her. Scowling, she turned her own anger onto the smiling glimmerous fop in front of her. "You!" Ema snatched the note out of his hands. Finally, she growled, "Why are you here?!"

Klavier held his hands up defensively. "Why, just picking up the evidence you discovered today, and checking in on you." The man stood back up, his hands on his hips as he gave her his trademark Mr. Charming smile. "Or did you forget the trial tomorrow?"

Ema knew this smile already, everyone did. Klavier Gavin was adept at sweeping women off their feet, quite literally sometimes.

Well, he could charm all he wanted, but he would _never_ get to her! Immediately, she fixed him with a stony glare, passing him a file without even looking at her cluttered desk. Sure, it was messy, but _she_, and she alone, knew where everything was. "Is that all you need, glimmer-boy?"

Klavier accepted the file, tucking it into one of the inner folds of his jacket. Ema had always wondered if his pockets were bottomless. Apparently, they were.

"It seems I've interrupted your beauty sleep, fräulein detective," Klavier leaned closer once again, close enough for Ema to smell the sweet cologne he wore and see just how perfectly white his teeth were when he smiled. "Perhaps I can make it up to you…"

Was he trying to egg her on? He was, wasn't he?

Oh how she hated him!

Without a second thought, her hand darted into the open top drawer in her desk. In one fluid motion, she grabbed and flung.

Snackooed in the forehead.

Klavier blinked, picking up the snackoo and staring at it with amusement. "Your aim has improved!"

Of course it had. Klavier gave her ample opportunities to practice. Every time he visited, in fact, which had been about three times now. "What do you want? Go away or I'll stop being nice," her lips twisted into a scowl as her words had exactly the opposite reaction as they intended.

Klavier's smile only broadened. "Oh, you are being nice!" He laughed, shaking his head, "Just like mutti."

Mutti? What was a mutti? Ema's frown deepened. There were many things she despised about Klavier, but one of the things that she disliked the most was undoubtedly his tendency to slip into German.

Having never learned German, she always felt at a loss and slightly inferior whenever he happened to "guten morgen!" or in this case "mutti." So, even though Klavier had given her the "ok" to ask him what his words meant, she rarely did.

Her pride wouldn't let her.

Ema sighed, wondering why this man was immune to her blatant verbal attacks. Deciding that she wasn't about to leave her fate to this stranger, she glanced at the clock.

1:00 PM. She could still catch up with Lana if she hurried.

Ema stood up, discarding her typical white labcoat for a more casual khaki jacket. "Glimmer-boy, you can stay here if you like, but I'm leaving. I've a date with a very upset woman."

"Another mädchen?" Klavier's eyes widened, a shocked expression on his face that almost made up for him intruding on her sleep.

Ema smirked, reading the prosecutor's surprised expression despite the German word. "Not exactly."

She left Klavier bewildered in her office, dashing out the door to catch the 1:05 bus into the restaurant district.

The Lana that greeted Ema at the corner café was tight lipped but happy to see her regardless. Her sister had ditched the quasi-pilot garb and had instead adopted a slightly more sophisticated look. Her outfit was now dark grey, a trendy tailored suit that Lana probably had shipped from overseas. Though she no longer wore the winter scarf, Ema always smiled when she saw the small red gauzy handkerchief tied around Lana's neck, a memento that she apparently just couldn't give up.

After the formalities had passed and they were both sipping warm mocha lattes with their sandwiches, the older girl beamed. "So, how is the best detective on the force doing after her first day on the job?"

Ema scoffed. "Yeah right. If they really thought I was the best, they wouldn't have put me in a shoe-box cubicle."

"Look at it this way, at least you _have_ an cubicle," Lana pointed out.

The younger girl pouted, sipping her coffee with fervor. "It's not exactly _mine_ either. I have to share it with this guy who can never get things right. What's his name… something Gumshoe?"

Lana's face paled. "_Dick_ Gumshoe?"

"Yes! Yes that's the dope." Ema exclaimed.

Lana placed her drink back on the table, fixing Ema with that look that meant she knew things were really not all right, even if she said they were. "Gumshoe is a good man. He may not be the brightest, but he has good intentions."

Great. She was working with an imbecile.

Ema had hoped Gumshoe might have changed since she knew him years ago, but apparently her hopes were in vain.

She thought of bringing up the other annoying guy who frequented her office, a certain blonde haired prosecutor, but for some reason the words caught in her throat. She tried to cover it up with another sip of her latte, but Lana was always adept at noticing these things.

Like a typical older sister, Lana always knew when something was wrong. _Always_.

"Ema," Lana began in the overly motherly tone she used quite often. She took Ema's hand, her eyes softening. "I know things seem tough right now, but you have to trust me, they will get better. I know they will, because I stood in your shoes not too long ago myself."

That's right, Lana _had_ been a detective, hadn't she? Not only that, but she had supported both of them on her meager salary. Now, here Lana sat before her, not exactly loaded but with enough cash to afford pricey suits from Europe.

Maybe things wouldn't be so bad. Maybe she wouldn't be eating instant cup ramen for the rest of her life.

Lunch ended with Lana graciously paying their bill (to Ema's relief) and a bus ride back to the scene of the most recent crime.

* * *

_Time: 2:03 PM_

_Mood: repulsed_

Crime scenes, Ema had discovered, were quite unpleasant inside the boundaries of that yellow caution tape. This crime scene was no exception. Even though Daryan appeared to have left the scene, Ema still felt repulsed by the scent of death around her, instinctively backing away when the wave of stench hit her.

"Is fräulein detective afraid?"

Though she had only known him a few days, Ema could recognize that teasing light German accent anywhere. "_Mr. Gavin_, you're getting on my nerves…" She whipped around, pointing an accusatory finger when…

"Dearest detective, I don't believe we have ever met, but I'm flattered that you know my name." Gavin stood in front of her, raising both palms to the air and shaking his head. He still had the same light blonde hair, twisted off to the left side, but something was very different about him.

His outfit, for one, was completely different. He wore a white collared shirt, tucked into a modest deep periwinkle suit. A classy pink tie that only this refined man (and possibly Edgeworth) could get away with adorned his neck. The typical rock star sunglasses that Klavier sometimes wore were now replaced with clear wire-framed …well… _normal_…glasses.

As if reading her thoughts, Mr. Gavin pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his slender nose and fixed her with a polite but nonetheless charming smile. "Perhaps you have met my brother, Klavier?"

"Klavier has…" Ema murmured more to herself than the poised man in front of her.

"…an older brother, yes," the man finished her sentence and held out a hand to her. "Kristoph Gavin. It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance Miss…?"

Quickly, almost eagerly, she took his hand, noting his firm handshake. "Ema Skye."

Taking in the man seemed to have fried half of her brain, Ema realized after he fixed her with another modest grin, taking it upon himself to continue their conversation. "Ah, fräulein Skye. I take it you are the head detective on the scene?"

"Yes, well, sorta. Gumshoe technically is since I'm still new" she responded, for some reason feeling the need to spill details to Kristoph even though he hadn't requested them. "Double homicide, the murder weapon appears to have been a Frisbee."

Kristoph raised his eyebrows with interest. "A Frisbee? My, this is a new one."

"You're telling me," Ema sighed, raking her fingers through her dark brown hair. "It's just a mess. There are prints everywhere, but none of them seem to match our suspects…"

Her voice trailed off, because her eyes had just caught sight of one very important, very shiny, detail adorning Kristoph Gavin's lapel.

A defense attorney's badge.

"You're… a defense attorney. Aren't you?" A horrible, downward spiral seemed to form in her stomach, twisting her insides into a tight knot.

"I am." The blonde haired man agreed.

She blanched. "We're on opposite sides of this case, aren't we?"

"We are." He agreed again.

The young detective felt so foolish, as if she had truly shown her naïveté today. She had assumed that since Klavier was a prosecutor that his brother would be too, but clearly, she was mistaken.

"I will be representing Mr. Gofree in tomorrow's court proceedings," Kristoph leaned a little closer, adding to the anxiety that Ema felt within. "He is the suspect your men have arrested, by the way. Best friends with both of the victims. Your evidence... well, I'm sure you'll find out for yourself soon enough."

"I see." Ema couldn't seem to muster the strength for further conversation. She really didn't know why, especially since Kristoph Gavin didn't appear the least bit derogatory towards her.

"I've finished here for today, so unfortunately this is where we must part ways. But allow me to leave you with a parting gift. Since you are new to the system, and a delicate fräulein, I should warn you of one thing…" he leaned closer, lowering his voice for just a moment. "…don't let him pay for you."

What the hell did that mean?

Dumbfounded, Ema only watched as Kristoph smiled, waved, and left the scene.

* * *

_Time: 6:00 PM_

_Mood: Need snackoos…_

Of the Gavin brothers, Kristoph definitely won the coolness prize. Ema decided this much as she reviewed both their encounter and the case.

Kristoph was refined, polite, and absolutely nothing like his younger brother, aside from the German accent.

She had a feeling that she would see more of him in the near future.

Starting with tomorrow, of course.

The afternoon and early evening had potential; however, Ema found that luck was not with her today. She spent the rest of the afternoon reasoning with and reassuring a mentally deranged witness and barking orders to largely incompetent police officers. The scene was not only a mess, but the officers had, in their clumsiness, tainted the scene before she even arrived.

It was no mystery to her now why Klavier was upset this morning.

One officer had stepped in the pool of blood surrounding one victim's body. Another had mistakenly left his Subway sandwich wrapper next to a pile of similar wrappers, lending that evidence completely useless.

Officer Meekins had even touched the Frisbee with his bare hands.

After thoroughly reprimanding and threatening them, she finally sent off some fingerprints and DNA samples to the forensics lab.

Deciding that there wasn't much more that she could do with the scene, she assigned Meekins to take the overnight shift as his punishment and stepped out of the yellow caution tape.

Disgruntled with life, she pulled a bag of snackoos from her purse, glowering as she munched on them.

She nearly collided with a familiar plum clad rock star prosecutor as she left the building "Fräulein Skye! Was stört Sie?"

"Speak in English or I won't answer you." Ema grumbled, making a beeline for the bus stop. She shoved another snackoo in her mouth, chewing angrily.

Typical of Klavier, he followed her. "My apologies. You seemed so upset. What's bothering you?"

"Viff whole hase ifs boverin me," She mumbled around her snackoo, then swallowed. "The crime scene is a complete disaster, and even though I found decisive evidence earlier, that letter, it's no good if we can't find prints at the scene, your brother held me up long enough for Meekins to taint the evidence, the witness is bat-shit crazy, and it will be at least 3 hours before they even have the DNA analysis!"

"Kristoph is the defense tomorrow?" Klavier mused, seeming to only pull this one tidbit out of her entire rant. He probably already knew about the rest. "This should be interesting."

Ema felt like saying "you know him?" but thankfully caught her tongue. Of course, he knew him! Instead, she gestured in the general direction of the police station. "Your witness is at the police station right now for questioning, likely as psychotic as ever."

Klavier didn't move. Instead, he just stood there, looking pensive.

Ema waited, feeling more and more awkward with every passing moment.

After glancing pointedly in his direction, she made a brushing motion with her hand to remind him. "Shouldn't you be talking to your witness?"

"I've already spoken with Mrs. Dumonde," Klavier finally said, a peculiar unidentifiable expression on his face. "I doubt she will be of any help to either myself or Kristoph."

It struck her suddenly that something was very different about Klavier. He almost seemed… upset? She wondered if it had anything to do with his brother being the defense.

Without thought, she tipped the bag towards him. "It looks like you could use a snackoo too."

Something about her gesture seemed to cheer him up. She _had _found a bag of them on his desk the other day. Maybe he liked karinto as much as she did?

A soft smile appeared on his lips as he dug into the bag. Removing one, he examined it before chewing thoughtfully. "Peanut flavored this time?"

"Karinto is the spice of life," she nodded.

"These are great, but you know what I could go for right now?" He asked.

"What?"

"Dinner," he answered, one hand still in his pocket as he absently gazed at the setting sun. "Karinto aren't filling, and this case isn't going anywhere for three hours anyway."

The wind picked up around them, causing Klavier's light blonde hair to flutter around him and attracting her attention downward to his…

His trademark Gavinners "G" necklace. That _had_ to be what that strange symbol stood for.

Observing her lack of response, Klavier peered a little closer, "Aren't you hungry?"

"_Once a fop, always a fop_," she reminded herself sternly. "No!"

As if on cue, her stomach let out a long and low grumble.

Stupid stomach.

Apparently snackoos really _weren't_ as filling as she had thought they were.

"Achtung! Evidence!" Klavier chuckled, poking her mid-section.

Indignantly, she wrapped her arms around her waist, feeling another embarrassed flush coming on. "You— stop that!"

"Very well, if you allow me to take you to dinner," he said, offering her his arm as if he were actually a gentleman.

Something nagged at the corner of her memory. Something she had heard not too long ago…

Whatever that something was got drowned out by another growl of her stomach. "Fine, but only if you pay again." She said, taking his arm.

"AND!" She added as an afterthought. "If we don't take your motorcycle."

Klavier laughed, pulling her closer to him as they walked. "As you wish, mein fräulein. Somewhere close by."

Ema scowled at the foreign words, vaguely aware that she had technically learned one of them today. "_Mein_ fräulein… fräulein is 'miss,' but what is mein?"

"It's exactly what it sounds like," he grinned, giving her an award-winning smile. He leaned in closer to her, so whispering the word into her ear. "My."

"_Yours?_" Ema blanched, pulling away from him indignantly. "Oh no. No no no. You'll have to do _a lot _more than dinner to make up for everything."

"Is that so?" He eyed her mischievously.

Ema didn't like where this was going. No, not at all.

Without warning, he smoothly slid his arm behind her waist, stepping in close to her again. "What will you have me do, fräulein Skye?"

She could feel the warmth of Klavier's body against hers, his breath lightly tickling her ear. And then it happened…

Klavier leaned in closer, and his pointed Gavinner's necklace swung forward, barely grazing the top of her chest.

Later, Ema would write pages upon pages in her journal about this single moment in time and how she would have reacted. She would mock him for his tacky necklace, take his hand, and lean in closer to him. She would smell the sweet scent of his cologne, the softness of his skin underneath her fingers. She would charmingly, yet teasingly, give him her demands… but for now…

"Get away!" She screamed, pushing Klavier away with both of her hands as if she were a small child. It seemed her body reacted on its own as she fell to her knees, cowering down and shielding her head with her arms.

It certainly wasn't the reaction Klavier had expected. She could tell by the way he backed up hesitantly. "Ema…" she heard him murmur.

She knew they were standing on a very public sidewalk and that people were walking by, probably giving them strange looks, but she didn't care.

No, now that she thought about it, she _did_ care. Quite a bit. But, she couldn't seem to help it. Her heart was racing, and she could feel hot tears streaming down her cheeks. She was embarrassed, ashamed of the way she was acting, but it seemed that logic didn't have any roll to play in what she was doing anymore.

"Fräulein Skye?" she heard Klavier's voice drift down from somewhere above.

Then the world went dark.

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

Not much to comment on this time. Did you like Kristoph? We'll see more of him very soon.

Hope you've enjoyed this chapter! Leave me love! (Or hate...)


	5. Day 2: Dinner

_Time: ??_

_Location: ??_

When she awoke, Ema groaned groggily, holding a hand to her throbbing head. She tried to sit up, but found that she had a brilliantly smashing headache.

Opting out of sitting up, she leaned further back into the comfortable folds of the bed below her.

Wait a second… bed? She didn't have a bed.

Gasping, Ema sat up abruptly, then winced as her head objected. The room around her was dark, but she could still make out a few things.

The bed beneath her, for one, was definitely not hers. It was a real bed, not a futon, and it had to be at least queen or king sized. The bedspread appeared to have a deep maroon hue, though she couldn't really tell for certain in this lighting, and it was extremely soft.

The rest of the room was filled with dark shapes that she could partially make out with the help of the sliver of light streaming through the cracked open door. A television sat across from her bed, an antiquated armoire next to that, a few large dark boxes, and some other shapes she couldn't easily recognize.

Large windows made up the wall to her left, though the blinds had been pulled shut, presumably so that the lights of the city couldn't get in.

Then she saw them, perched along one wall.

Guitars. A wall full of guitars.

_Oh god…! This room, it's…_

Never one to miss a cue, Klavier's voice drifted in from the hallway, "Fräulein Skye?" The door cracked open, and she could make out the blonde wisps of his hair around his cheeks as he cautiously peered into the room.

"Gavin? Why am I in your bedroom?" she questioned.

"What is the last thing you remember?" He asked in response, opening the door wider and walking into the room. She noticed that he toyed nervously with one of his pockets as he did so.

"Ung..." she grumbled, deciding to lay back on the bed. Absently, she touched a hand to her forehead. "I remember standing on the sidewalk… we were going to dinner… and you made some stupid foppish comment…"

"Thanks for that," he smirked, sitting down on the side of the bed. "Anything else?"

Ema frowned. "No… wait, you poked me or something, and then I ended up here." She glared at him sharply. "You still haven't answered my question, by the way."

Klavier smiled, looking away as if he were afraid to meet her gaze. "My apologies, you passed out, and I didn't know what to do with you. It wouldn't have been very kind to leave you on the sidewalk, so I brought you here."

She gasped, "You _carried_ me all the way here?"

He rolled his eyes, looking back at her with sarcasm. "Really, fräulein detective, I thought you were better than that!" After a moment, his expression softened a bit. "My driver brought us here."

"Oh," she murmured back, at first accepting his comment at face value. Then her eyes snapped open, "wait, _driver??_ Just where do you live?!"

"I'd show you but," Klavier smirked, tapping her forehead with his index finger. "I don't think you should get up just yet."

Before Ema could object, a loud and horrible sound pierced the air around them. She would later recognize that tune as one of the Gavinners' hit singles.

Klavier frowned, "the doorbell? But who would be visiting at this hour?" Without further comment, he rose and walked out the door.

"Ah! Mein bruder!" she heard Klavier exclaim from the other room, delving into a waterfall of German that she didn't have a chance of remembering or understanding.

Another voice, that sounded vaguely familiar to Ema, responded in German. She laid back in the comfy bed and was content to simply listen as the two chatted for quite some time in what may as well have been gibberish.

She closed her eyes, sighing as she "listened" to the conversation. The language was extremely guttural. Ema would have sworn that Klavier was angry at his house guest, but she could hear the chiding tone in his voice at times.

After some time, a cell phone rang. She heard the voices quiet down and stop.

If she listened carefully, she could hear the soft sound of footsteps walking towards her.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed the familiar wisps of light blonde hair at the door as Klavier peered in. "Fräulein Skye?" Funny, he sounded a little different.

"Yes, that's me," Ema murmured, not bothering to grace him with more than a passing wave of her hand. "What, did that glimmerous head of yours forget that you brought me here?"

"Forgive me for saying so, fräulein Skye, but I think you've mistaken me again."

Oh crap.

Ema gasped, sitting up quickly in the bed again, wincing as her head objected once more. It hurt, but she determinedly stayed up. Her eyes widened and focused on the man as he stepped into the room.

Kristoph Gavin. Klavier's older brother.

Immediately, she felt that embarrassing flush return to her cheeks. "Kristoph, I'm sorry, I _do_ seem to keep mistaking you for your glimmerous younger brother."

"Glimmerous?" Kristoph smiled, adjusting his glasses with his index finger. "You'll have your own language someday if you keep using words like that."

Ema gave a half hearted laugh. "You and Klavier already seem to have your own."

"We _did_ live in Germany," he agreed, smiling at her kindly, "but I can certainly sympathize with not understanding a language. If there is ever anything you would like me to translate…"

At this comment, Ema folded her arms. "Oh, don't worry, Klavier's already doing a _great_ job of that…"

"Oh is he?" Kristoph chuckled. "Tell me, what has he taught you?"

"Well…" Ema raked her brain for anything Klavier had recently said. "He taught me 'mein fräulein' earlier…"

"Mein fräulein?" the older Gavin brother appeared mildly surprised. "He said that to you?"

Ema waved it off. "He's just being the glimmer-boy that he is."

"Indeed," Kristoph nodded with polite agreement. "Klavier can be that way, but…" His words trailed off, and she saw him shake his head.

"Nevermind," he said, looking a bit closer at her instead. Gently, he reached out a warm hand to touch her aching right temple. "Are you quite all right, fräulein Skye? You seem a bit pale."

His hand was soft, and she felt a pleasant tingle where his fingers brushed against her skin. Demurely, she turned her head away from his hand.

"Ugh, it's embarrassing," she moaned, looking at the ceiling so that she wouldn't have to meet his concerned gaze. "We were walking somewhere for dinner, but then I passed out on the sidewalk, for some reason. I don't ever… that's not like me." she finished.

As she finished her explanation, it looked as if Kristoph wanted to say something, but they could hear Klavier's angry (English this time) voice, echo through the place. "That fool did _what?!_ No no, I'll attend to it myself. Tell them not to go _anywhere_."

Moments later, he was at the bedroom door, looking upset. He glanced at Kristoph and muttered, "You know what we were talking about? You were right. I have to go there now."

"Naturally, I was right. I never read people wrong." Kristoph commented almost smugly, earning a grin from his brother.

"Of course you don't," Klavier smirked. His eyes flickered briefly to Ema. "Kris… she hasn't had dinner yet. I hate to ask, but could you…?"

"Certainly," The agreement between the two was quick and left Ema trying to piece together the unspoken words. She wondered if people ever thought that she and Lana shared a similar bond.

"Fräulein Skye, I apologize, but I must leave," Klavier said, fixing his attention on Ema. He still seemed upset about whatever happened. She noticed a touch of something else behind his eyes but couldn't tell just what that was. "Feel better. I'll have this all cleared up by tomorrow."

Without saying any more, he left Ema sitting bewildered in his bed. Kristoph merely adjusted his glasses again and stood up.

"Well, fräulein Skye, it seems you haven't had dinner yet. After what you described, I'm not sure I would want it either." Kristoph commented, looking at her with focused concern. "Do you even have an appetite?"

Always on cue, her stomach took that silent moment to gurgle like an angry river monster.

Kristoph chuckled. "I'll take that as a 'yes.' Are you well enough to walk into the other room?"

"Yes, I most certainly am!" Ema stated defiantly, slightly offended by the question. However, when she stood up, her head throbbed and the room seemed to lurch around her.

Strong and steady hands quickly caught her. She felt Kristoph slide his right arm underneath her left and across her back, holding her up straight. "Would you mind if I helped out a little bit?"

Though she was embarrassed about not being able to walk on her own just yet, she was grateful for the support. She nodded, leaning onto him a bit more.

Together they moved into the other room. Ema squinted as the bright lights from the hallway assaulted her. Klavier's hallway had pristine white walls. Framed (and signed) portraits of various musicians hung here and there.

When they walked into Klavier's living room, she found that it was as neat and tidy as the rest of the house. She didn't get a good glimpse of all of his possessions though, because her attention was drawn to the large windows that made up one of the walls.

The nighttime city outside was alive with lights and color that seemed to blend together from their high up view. Klavier's condo had to be at least 30 stories tall, Ema decided judging by how miniscule the streets and cars below seemed.

Klavier was out there somewhere in that mess. Ema's attention was quickly pulled away from the windows and to a tall seat at a bar attached to his kitchen. It was sturdy, but just to be on the safe side, she leaned onto the countertop.

Kristoph had moved into the kitchen already. She watched as he pulled open the refrigerator door and shook his head. "I had planned to make you a light bruschetta, but it seems my options are limited to ketchup, cheese, and hot dogs."

"I had forgotten what it is like to live alone at his age," he chuckled then fixed his attention on Ema. "I don't suppose you want any of this?"

Ema almost told him about her recent instant-noodle habit, but she thought better of it. "Anything is ok with me."

Kristoph made a non-committal noise and closed the refrigerator door. He walked back to her, standing on the other side of the bar. With his professional coat and glasses on, Ema could easily imagine him as an overdressed bartender. "Well, _I'd_ prefer not to eat a dinner of cheese dogs."

He regarded her carefully again. "Are you well enough to dine out somewhere?"

"What?!" Ema winced inwardly at the shocked tone her voice held, but really, she wasn't expecting that.

"You don't want to go?" he asked. It may have been Ema's imagination, but he sounded a little disappointed.

"No, that's not it." Ema hastily backpedaled.

The idea of dinner with Kristoph was simply charming.

"I'd love to go, but I might need your help again," she admitted. "What did you have in mind?"

"Certainly." Like a perfect gentleman, he came to her side of the table, offering her his arm. She stood and took it, following his escort to the door where they both found and put on their shoes. "How does Italian sound to you?"

* * *

_Time: 8:25 PM_

_Location: La Dolce Vita_

_Mood: Dreamy_

One look at the finely dressed clientele and Ema knew that it would take her a month to pay for this meal. _If_ she were paying, that is. She had the distinct feeling that wouldn't happen tonight, as Kristoph politely said hello to the red-coated wait-staff, calling them by name.

They were escorted through the antiquated, yet somehow contemporary, brick walled room lit by old-fashioned lantern lights. Ema marveled at the numerous assorted bottles of wine on the wall behind the bar. The atmosphere was warm, and in the corner, live musicians played a song that she vaguely recognized yet didn't recall the name to.

After being seated in a cozy half-circle booth, the host left them with their menus and each other. The prices on her menu confirmed her previous suspicions, but she found that for some reason she didn't care. Ema sipped her glass of ice-water, feeling better each moment.

Kristoph drove a meticulously clean car, much to her approval, with leather seats and an assortment of buttons on the dashboard that she could never hope to understand. The valet had taken care of the parking, and (even though she no longer needed the support) she had walked in again holding his arm.

Conversation with Kristoph was easy, and Ema found herself telling him everything from her dreams of being a forensic scientist to her concerns about her sister. Kristoph listened politely, asking her questions that would lead her to her next topic or occasionally commenting with his own experiences.

Though they seemed to have talked a lot, she learned less than she would have liked to know about the man she sat next to. The Gavin brothers had lived in Germany for a good portion of their lives, which explained why Klavier had such a tendency to fall into German so easily. Kristoph had been in the defense attorney profession for at least 10 years now, Ema assumed, and he had even taken on a protégée recently.

"His name is Apollo. Perhaps you'll meet him someday soon," Kristoph commented.

"Apollo? What kind of a name is that?" Ema laughed, pitying the poor boy's name.

He smirked in response. "It's about as peculiar as 'Phoenix,' I suppose."

"Phoenix Wright?" Ema asked, suddenly very interested. "Do you know him?"

"I assume you do as well." Kristoph seemed to eye her with interest, adjusting his glasses in a way that made the lantern light reflect off them briefly. "He is a good friend of mine."

"That's so cool!" She smiled, feeling happier by the moment. "Phoenix is great at getting out of impossible situations! Do you ever work together?"

"Probably not in the sense that you're thinking," Kristoph murmured, shaking his head. "Phoenix has had a run of bad luck as of late."

"He's… what?" She was confused. What could he possibly be talking about?

"Phoenix is no longer a defense attorney." It seemed like he was watching her closely, gauging her reaction to that news.

Ema didn't take it well. She gasped, covering her mouth to hide some of the shock. Disheartened, she gazed down at her plate, the remnants of the sourdough bread they had brought before dinner sitting forgotten. "He's… but I can't imagine him quitting… Phoenix was…"

She felt so helpless after hearing this news, like she could and should have done something to help him. If only she had taken the honors courses and graduated early! Knowing fully that she must look pathetic and pitiful, she couldn't meet Kristoph's gaze. "…he saved my sister."

It seemed like Kristoph had pieced together a small puzzle that had been bugging him for a little while, as recognition dawned in his eyes. "Ah, so you're _that_ Ema. He's spoken of you before."

Normally, Ema would have been thrilled that someone knew about her. She would have asked eager questions about what Phoenix had said and just how much he knew, but right now, she was completely focused on Phoenix's predicament. "How did it happen?" She asked.

For the first time that evening, Kristoph faltered in their conversation. It happened so quickly that most people would never have noticed, but the scientist in Ema was used to looking for these sorts of picky details.

She gazed over at him with curiosity. Why would he lose his composure now? Eventually, he settled on a statement, "I think that is a story I'll let him tell. Would you like to see him tomorrow?"

Finally, Ema cracked a smile. "Yes, yes I'd love to!"

He smiled in return. "Very well then, tomorrow we have dinner at the Borscht Bowl Club, but for tonight, I hope _this _is acceptable." He indicated towards their approaching waiter.

The red-coated waiter arrived with copper pans from the kitchen, uncovering them and placing their dinners before them. Ema's Chicken Fiorentina looked delicious and smelled sinfully fragrant. Kristoph's Filet Mignon appeared a bit rarer than she would have liked, but, as it wasn't her dish, it didn't concern her.

The food really was as delicious as it looked. Ema was suddenly very glad that Kristoph had refused to eat Klavier's cheese dogs.

They spoke little while eating. When the check came, Ema noticed that, as Klavier had done earlier, Kristoph simply paid the bill with little more than a second glance.

Again, she found herself struggling with that dilemma. Should she offer to pay or simply say "thank you?" Tentatively, she broached the subject, "So, how much do I…"

"Don't worry about it," Kristoph smiled at her kindly. "After all, I _forced_ you to eat Chicken Fiorentina instead of stale refrigerator food."

At this, Ema couldn't stop herself from laughing. After a quizzical look from Kristoph, she stammered, "Sorry, you two, you're just so similar! That's almost _exactly_ what Klavier said earlier!"

Kristoph's reaction wasn't what she expected. He touched a hand to his forehead and lightly shook his head. "Dear fräulein Skye, you didn't listen to my advice, did you?"

"Advice…?" Ema pondered what this advice could have been.

"Nevermind, I'm sure you'll figure it out on your own soon, fräulein _detective_," Kristoph smiled wryly, borrowing that phrase that his brother so loved. Or had Klavier at one point borrowed it from him?

Ema wasn't sure she liked that look. It was mischievous. It meant that he knew Klavier must be up to something, but what that _something_ was, she couldn't say.

As Kristoph drove her home, she mulled over the day in her head, debating if her second day was any more of an indication of what it would be like to work for the LAPD as her first day had been. Glancing over at Kristoph, whose features were lighted occasionally by the passing streetlamps, she decided that her second day had at least gone better.

She hadn't had to pay for breakfast, lunch, or even dinner!

And, she had the pleasure of a simply delightful dinner to top off her day. Though they had their similarities, she couldn't imagine how Kristoph put up with his younger brother. Maybe Klavier treated his older brother differently than everyone else? The possibility seemed slim, but how else could they ever get along?

"Tomorrow…" Kristoph began, pulling Ema back into the real world. "…you will be called to testify about the crime scene as the head detective."

Ema's eyes widened as she sharply turned to face him. "What?! But I thought that Gumshoe would be testifying!" She hadn't paid _that_ great of attention to the crime scene after all of those problems… and besides, what were the results of that DNA test anyway?

"Gumshoe has had an unfortunate accident, so you will be testifying in his place," Kristoph explained, not bothering to mention _how_ he knew this. They stopped at a red light, and he turned to face her. "I may ask you some difficult questions… I'm sure you've seen Phoenix do that before."

Ema nodded. She knew how harrowing the defense could be towards witnesses. It was almost scary, actually.

"Don't be afraid," as if he had picked the thoughts from her head, Kristoph replied in a collected and gentle voice. "Klavier gives a good performance on stage and in the courtroom, and I intend to match him. Despite what I may sound like and say, I am not angry with you and don't think you are a fool. Not now, not tomorrow."

It seemed odd that Kristoph would tell her this, but she didn't mind the warning. "After a preface like that, should I be worried about tomorrow's trial?"

Kristoph smiled, turning his attention back to the street as he pulled away from the red light. "After you've finished testifying, just sit back and enjoy the show."

Ema directed him the rest of the way to her apartment where he fluidly parallel parked in the street. "Thanks, Kristoph. For dinner, for driving me home, for making sure I didn't pass out again in the street…"

Kristoph chuckled, turning off the car and walking around to open up her door. "You are most certainly welcome, fräulein Skye. Remember, tomorrow, don't be afraid." He held out his hand to help her out.

Such a gentleman!

"Thank you." She murmured again, taking his hand and allowing him to help her out. He walked with her up the dimly lit concrete stairs as she fished around in her purse for the keys to her apartment complex.

It probably wasn't a bad idea. Even though she was now a detective on the police force, the muggings in this area were ridiculously high.

She found the right key and opened the door, letting it stay open as she turned to face him. A thought had been creeping up on her the entire evening, but now it finally hit her.

Alone. She was alone with Kristoph Gavin, and if she knew anything about relationships (and she wasn't entirely certain she did) then this entire evening was…

Probably sensing that her thoughts were becoming panicked, Kristoph merely took her hand in his. "Don't worry, I only mean to thank you for this evening." Softly, he placed a small kiss on her hand. "Good night, fräulein Skye."

Awe-struck, she watched him walk back to his car and drive away before she walked through the door.

Ema flopped onto her lumpy futon when she entered her studio apartment. Immediately, she reached for that little black book.

_Time: 10:57 PM_

_Location: Back home_

_Mood: Falling in love…_

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes

How many of you are still reading? Do you hate me yet?

I love writing Kristoph. Guilty pleasure, sorry, but he's a comfy shoe, and _oh_ so similar (through Ema's eyes anyway) to someone else I love to write about...

Please leave love or hate. I enjoy both. :)


	6. Day 3: The First Testimony

_Time: 8:45 AM_

_Location: Prosecutor's lobby_

_Mood: Distracted_

She supposed it was true. In one day's time, not even, she had fallen for Kristoph Gavin. But what were the chances that he felt the same way?

Slim to none, she supposed. She had no money, nothing to offer so to speak.

_But he said he didn't think you were stupid yesterday!_ A small voice inside her head told her.

_Like that means anything!_ She wailed miserably to her inner-self.

She was so caught up in her own internal affairs that she had completely tuned out Klavier for the last five minutes.

"Ema?" His voice finally drew her attention back to him. "Were you listening?"

She shook her head no.

Klavier sighed. It was the third time she had seen him do that this morning. "This isn't like you. Did my brother say something yesterday to upset you?"

"No!" she quickly responded, perhaps a bit too loudly and enthusiastically.

Klavier's eyes widened just slightly and only for half a moment. In that split second, Ema thought she saw a trace of _something_ in them, but before she could analyze it any further, he looked away, snapping his fingers in time to some song that she probably didn't know.

She made a mental note to quiet her voice in the prosecutor's lobby and continued. "He was a perfect gentleman. You could learn something from him, you know," she chided.

"Heh, couldn't we all?" he muttered with just a touch of what seemed like bitterness. He paused his snapping for just a moment, then resumed, looking up at Ema, "in any event, we have a case to review before you need to testify."

That pulled her back to reality. She barely knew what had happened as it was, not to mention that Klavier had run off somewhere last night, quite upset. Something big must have recently developed in the case. "That's right. What happened yesterday?"

Klavier sat back on the wooden bench that they were both resting on. "Patience, fräulein Skye. I will tell you in due time, but first we should review the basics of this case. Tell me, what do you recall about the crime scene?"

Ema pondered briefly before responding, "the crime took place in a dog-food factory on Main and 19th street. There were two murders, both of which appear to have been from asphyxiation via a Frisbee. Mrs. Dumonde claims to have witnessed the entire thing, and evidence detailing the murder was found in the suspect's home."

"Good," Klavier began. "That would have been sufficient before last night, but a few things have developed since then."

Ema waited for him to elaborate, wondering what had happened last night while she had been out to dinner with Kristoph. It had been such a lovely evening that she hardly saw how the rest of the world couldn't have been placid and content too.

"Someone shot Gumshoe last night, in a successful attempt to re-enter the factory. It seems that something of value was still there, something that we all missed," Klavier began what seemed like it would be a long explanation.

"Wait, _Gumshoe_?" Ema interrupted. "I told _Meekins_ to stay for the overnight shift."

Klavier shrugged, "Maybe you did, but sometime last night Gumshoe must have switched with him. I wouldn't put it past someone like him."

Ema wouldn't either. She could just imagine Gumshoe feeling sorry for Meekins, bringing him a bowl of instant ramen to cheer him up and offering to take his place. "Is he ok?"

"He'll be fine. It wasn't a major injury, but it was enough to keep him from being here today," the speed of Klavier's speech increased ever so slightly. It was barely enough to note, but Ema wondered what it could mean. "The DNA and fingerprinting tests both found that another person held the Frisbee, which likely isn't the true murder weapon, but it is difficult to say what _is_ since whoever shot Gumshoe probably returned to the scene of the crime to steal it."

"So what, am I supposed to get up there and present a bunch of false evidence?" She asked, giving Klavier a skeptical look.

"Not necessarily false, just not fully explained yet. I'm certain that Kristoph will have his own theories, but I have mine as well…" Klavier murmured, giving her his Mr. Charming smile as he mused inwardly. "Present everything just like we thought yesterday. If Kristoph presses you about it, don't tell him about last night."

"Don't tell him? But doesn't he already know…" Ema's own words trailed off as another thought suddenly struck her. "Wait, Gumshoe was _shot_ last night?! That means that the real killer is _still out there_ doesn't it?"

"It could," Klavier agreed.

Ema threw her hands in the air, exasperated. "So why are we prosecuting this guy?"

"The accused, Lemmie Gofree, is far from innocent. He is part of the L.A. black-market drug trade, but we have never had sufficient evidence to catch him," the prosecutor explained. "This time, he made one crucial mistake…"

But before Klavier had a chance to explain this crucial mistake, the court bailiff (who always seemed to have the worst timing) came in announcing that court would begin soon.

Klavier nodded to the bailiff, then murmured hastily to Ema, "The DNA tests on the Frisbee also came in last night. There were two samples of blood, both of which belonged to the victims, but there were also _fingerprints_ on the Frisbee too. The set belonging to the accused and an unidentified set."

Ema nodded and allowed herself to be shuffled to a bench reserved for witnesses at the side of the lobby. Also sitting in the seats she found, of course, the bat-shit crazy witness, and Detective Daryan Crescend.

What _pleasant_ company.

When she turned to face Klavier again, she must have given him a strange look.

He responded with a small, but still charming, smile. He reached his hand over, as if he were going to place it on the small of her back, but then pulled it back, seeming to think better of it. "Don't worry so much fräulein Skye. You are my first witness, but after that you can relax."

Somehow, she didn't find his words were very reassuring.

"…in the courtroom, away from a certain witness." He added with a small wink. "And did you forget? I'll back you up when I can."

Ah that was better. She took a seat next to Daryan and watched him leave.

_"Palms sweaty... pretty nervous…"_ she thought as she waited in the prosecution's lobby, watching everyone else enter the courtroom. It had been a long time since she was a witness at a trial. What would happen if she made a mistake?

A glimpse of Kristoph passed through her mind, smirking as the light reflected off his glasses. She could already hear him shouting "_Hold it!_"

She knew it was inevitable.

"Geez, loosen up a little, you're making _me_ feel cracked," she heard the freak next to her say.

She didn't respond, but turned to face Daryan Crescent, thankful that he was facing forward and not assaulting her with his hair this time.

"You're like our drummer. He's always wigged out," Daryan frowned.

"WIG!" The crazy lady next to him exclaimed, jumping to her feet and pointing at Daryan. "That's a wig isn't it?!"

Yep. She was just as crazy as yesterday.

Daryan responded by smirking and fluffing his hair. "Hell no! This is 100 all natural!"

So was he.

As the two bickered, Ema sighed wistfully, resting her elbow on her knee and leaning her chin into her cupped palm. Her thoughts carried her away from this unpleasant bench and back to yesterday's dinner. She hadn't seen Kristoph today, but she assumed he would have been too busy to talk to her anyway.

Kristoph Gavin. Was he the type to woo someone and then ignore them? Would he be that insincere?

No, she decided. He was polite, charming, and refined… _and_ he cared very much about the people around him, even if he might not show it. He reminded her of Edgeworth, really. Intelligent, sharp-witted, aristocratic, and completely desirable.

As these pleasant thoughts toyed with her brain, she was once again called to the real world by the bailiff. "First witness, Ema Skye."

Ema sprung to her feet, anxious to get away from the others and to get her part of the trial over.

She noticed him immediately when she entered the room, a solitary figure standing at the defense bench. Kristoph Gavin.

He didn't smile or wave, but he did nod his head ever so slightly to acknowledge her presence.

Crowds of people were shoved into the room in the bleachers behind both the prosecution and defense benches. It looked like the courtroom was at max capacity. Ema wondered, was it always this way when Kristoph and Klavier faced each other in court?

On the other side of the court room, Klavier smiled in his usual charming fashion, waiting for her to reach the witness stand before speaking. "Witness, please state your name and occupation."

"Ema Skye, detective at the Los Angeles Police Department," she announced clearly, making sure to talk loudly so that everyone could hear her. Feeling awkward and out of place, she touched the white rim of the glasses on her head and smiled.

"Would fräulein Skye please state what happened the day of the murder?" he continued, placing his hands on the prosecutor's bench and smiling at her expectantly.

Ema stopped for a moment, lost in that look, before shaking herself out of it. Stupid blindingly bright Mr. Charming smile. "Sure."

This was it. This was her big moment. She took a deep breath, facing the court as she spoke. "Early yesterday morning, two men were murdered at the dog food factory on 19th and Main street. They appeared to have been murdered with a Frisbee. The Frisbee was found in the hands of the defendant. It contains two blood samples that DNA tests have shown belong to the two victims. In addition, a witness watched the entire murder happen and has stated that _you_," she pointed at the defendant, "Mr. Gofree, are the murderer."

The courtroom was silent for a moment. Even Klavier's screaming fangirls had ceased their screaming. What was supposed to happen next?

"You may begin your cross examination now," She heard the judge's low rumble of a voice from before her.

Kristoph cleared his throat, looking at the judge. "Thank you, your honor."

When his eyes focused on Ema, they were no longer kindly as they had been the previous night. They were like cold mirrors, reflecting away whatever sort of nice personality he may have had. His expression was strictly professional.

It would have surprised her, but she had seen the same expression from Edgeworth years ago. He was always so formal. Besides, Kristoph had warned her about this, hadn't he?

She almost didn't catch it, but Klavier was watching her intently too. It was tough to tell what could be going through his mind, as a neutral smile was carefully placed on his face.

"If you could please restate your testimony, fräulein Skye," Kristoph stated.

Ema nodded, thinking back to her lines. "Early yesterday morning, two men were murdered at the dog food factory on 19th and Main street." After her statement, Ema scrunched her eyelids a little, wincing in anticipation.

Nothing happened.

She didn't dare look at Kristoph, but she did chance a glance at Klavier. Ever so subtly, he made a circular motion with his index finger. _Keep going_.

Ema didn't respond to him, but she did address the court again. "They appeared to have been murdered with a Frisbee…"

"Hold it!" All eyes flew to Kristoph, perfectly poised behind the defense attorney's bench. "How do you know that the Frisbee was the murder weapon?"

Ema felt like responding with something along the lines of "_because you agreed with me yesterday,_" but she thought better of it. She cleared her throat, buying her time to collect her thoughts. "If you will recall, the murder weapon was stained with the blood of both victims. I would say that is sufficient evidence."

The judge nodded. "That does sound like good evidence."

"But _I_ wouldn't," Kristoph remarked, shaking his head. "Doesn't it seem just a bit _convenient_ that the 'murder weapon' had blood from both victims? Besides…"

Ema could feel it coming, as if the air around her was charged for an electric strike of lightning. She gripped the edge of the witness stand, steeling herself for the question.

"Exactly _how_ do you kill someone with a Frisbee?"

Ema swallowed, feeling cornered now that the obvious had been pointed out. She glanced at Klavier, as if he could give her some sort of direction. He turned his head slightly towards Kristoph and nodded, as if to say, _"Answer it."_

She cleared her throat, idly touching the white rim of her glasses. "Well, from our understanding, the murderer hit them once in the head, knocking them out, and then asphyxiated the victims with the flat side of the Frisbee," she sighed, moving on to her next statement before Kristoph could press her any further. "But anyway the Frisbee was found in the hands of the defendant."

"Hold it!" The eyes of the court flew to Kristoph.

Ema waited, her gaze hardening against whatever the older Gavin may say next.

"I believe the key word here is _found_," Kristoph commented. "My client happened to be unconscious when…"

"Objection!" Everyone in the courtroom whipped their heads around to face Klavier. He stood with his finger outstretched, his silver rings reflecting the bright overhead lights. "The state of the defendant is irrelevant to the murder weapon."

"Objection!" Kristoph retaliated, pointing his index finger back at his brother. "The state of the defendant is of _utmost_ importance in this case. If the defendant was unconscious, it is likely that the 'weapon' was planted."

"Objection!" Klavier immediately shouted back. "Do you have any proof that the weapon was planted?"

"Not yet," Finally, Kristoph conceded, pressing a finger to the bridge of his glasses. As he pushed them up, the courtroom lights reflected off the clear panes. "but I suspect that will change very soon."

His cold blue eyes turned to Ema. "Fräulein Skye, your next statement please."

_"Only half way through the testimony…"_ Ema thought to herself, feeling more than shaken already. "It contains two blood samples that DNA tests have shown belong to the two victims."

"Hold it!" Dutifully, the eyes of the court again turned to Kristoph. "Could you explain the process of asphyxiation to the court?"

"Objection!" Klavier shouted, commanding the attention of the court as he pointed. "This has no relevance to the DNA tests."

"Your honor," Kristoph faced the judge. "There is a point to this, but it requires a bit of set-up."

The judge nodded. "Objection denied, but only because it's you, Kristoph Gavin."

Ema felt her head swimming. Was the judge actually taking Kristoph's side? Wasn't he supposed to be impartial? Maybe she just didn't understand the legal system very well.

"Thank you, your honor," Kristoph said with a simple smile. Then he turned to Ema once more. "You may continue fräulein Skye."

Oh. Right. Asphyxiation. "The process of asphyxiation is similar to being strangled to death. It involves the air passageways being blocked so that oxygen may not be provided to the body. Without oxygen, the body cannot survive."

"That sounds about right." Kristoph nodded. "So, now that we have all heard about the relatively _clean_ process of asphyxiation, tell me, _why_ would there be _blood_ on the Frisbee?"

The courtroom filled with murmurs. Even Klavier's normally squeeling fangirls were whispering among themselves, glancing at Ema here and there. As the talking grew louder, the judge pounded his gavel down. "Order! I will have order in my courtroom!"

The voices quieted down, and the judge turned his eyes to Ema. "This is a very serious question indeed. Is there any reason that blood would be on the Frisbee? Did they both have nosebleeds?"

As convenient as that excuse would have been, it wasn't true. There had been copious blood at the crime scene, but it was due to being struck on the back of the head. She doubted that a Frisbee could really render someone unconscious. "No…. no there isn't a reason blood would be on the frisbee…" Ema heard herself murmur.

"Thank you for making the obvious even more clear." Kristoph finished, holding his hands out to the side and shaking his head. "It should be equally obvious to the court, now, that the Frisbee could not have been the murder weapon. Thus, the Frisbee is no more than a red herring, a _planted _piece of evidence meant to throw suspicion on my client. Now that this bit of 'evidence' has been rendered useless, why else should we suspect my client of murder?"

"Because a witness watched the entire murder happen, and has stated that Mr. Gofree is the murderer." Ema restated her last statement in response, her teeth clenched, determinedly holding back whatever emotion she was feeling.

"Why so she did, and I believe it is time to hear from that witness." Kristoph looked pointedly at his brother, as if he measuring something. Klavier did seem a bit more tense than usual. Then, he looked at the judge. "I have no further questions for this witness."

The judge nodded. "Very well, the witness Ema Skye is dismissed." He pounded his gavel on the table, the final statement to her deplorable testimony. "The court will now adjourn for a 10 minute recess."

Ema stood motionless at the witness stand for a moment, watching the people wash out of the courtroom. That had been a disaster. She felt her feet carrying her away from the witness stand and back outside with the other people.

Back in the prosecutor's lobby, she fell into the bench listlessly. Her eyes were trained to the ground, pondering with despair the horrible answers she must have given. She didn't even look up at the inconspicuous man who sat next to her.

"Don't feel bad. My first time as a witness was rough too. Your answers were fine, Ema."

Wait. _Ema?_ A guy who called her _Ema_ and not fräulein something-or-other?

As Ema turned to face him, happiness lit in her eyes. The same pure blue eyes and far too genuine grin left no doubt in her mind about who sat next to her. And, she supposed, the spiky tufts of dark hair that stuck out of the back of his – unique – hat were also a clear indication.

"Mr. Wright!" Without thought, she threw her arms around him, feeling the tears that she had been holding back spill onto his cotton jacket.

He laughed, pulling her close too. "It's good to see you too, kid. And really, you can call me 'Phoenix' now."

She nodded into his jacket, pulling back and wiping the tears from her eyes. "That might be tough to do, Mr… Phoenix. How did you ever…"

She began, then started to notice just how strange his blue knit hat really was. "survive…"

Ema continued, noticing the highly unprofessional grey hoodie and black slacks. "in this…"

And the sandals. "…just what are you wearing?"

She flipped her glasses down, examining his outfit through a slightly magnified pink hue. "Hobo-wear? I've never seen you wear this to court before."

He laughed, rubbing his head through the blue "Papa" hat. "I've had a bit of a career change. In my new profession, you don't have to look that nice to get by." He said, and as his lips moved, she noticed the clearly unshaven partial goatee he had started to grow.

She flipped her glasses back up, beaming at him. "Well, I don't care what you look like, Mr. Wright. I'm just happy to see you again!"

"Same." He smiled, simple and scruffy, but still as nice as ever. "When Kristoph told me you would be testifying today, I had to come. Kristoph can be pretty intense sometimes. I hope he didn't scare you too much."

Ema shook her head. "Nope! Everything's ok now that you're here."

She meant it. Since Phoenix had arrived, all of those scared and miserable feelings had melted away.

Phoenix Wright had always had that effect on her. He was a symbol of (somewhat) calm in a tumultuous world. He had guided her through the worst of the worst in the past, and she had no doubt that he could do the same now. Even if he wasn't the defense…

When the court bailiff started ushering people in again, before Ema could even think about where she should go, Phoenix took her hand like a kindly uncle, pulling her up from the bench. "Why don't you sit by me on the defense's side?"

Ema smirked, following his lead. "Away from the screeching teenage girls?"

Phoenix's genuine laughter resonated deeply in his chest. "Exactly!"

* * *

_Time: 10:00 AM_

_Mood: Significantly better_

The court resumed with Daryan Crescend taking the witness stand. Apparently, the real witness, Mrs. Dumonde, had locked herself in the bathroom temporarily and was refusing to come out.

"Joe, go reason with her," the judge said, waving the bailiff off. "And for goodness sake, let's get some _order _in this courtroom! Prosecutor Gavin, please call your next witness."

While Daryan gave his testimony, Ema leaned over towards Phoenix. "Does he give you the creeps too?"

"A little, yeah." Phoenix nodded, rubbing the scruffy part of his chin. "He's in Klavier's rock band."

Now that she thought about it, that _did_ explain how they both knew when to stop their air-guitar solos.

Daryan brought to light that illegal crack had been smuggled in from overseas, being shipped back to the United States under the guise of 'unsatisfactory cans of dog-food.' He also noted that the victims had both been previously suspected of having a hand in this trade, and that their location at the time of their murder was more than convenient. Kristoph, however, did a fantastic job of showing the court that this was only a possibility.

By the time Daryan's testimony had ended, Mrs. Dumonde was still locked in the bathroom.

Deciding that he had better places to be, the judge determined that court would reconvene tomorrow and that Klavier needed to straighten out his witness.

Ema wanted to be done with work for the day, but she knew that she should at least _try_ to help Klavier out.

"Mr. Phoenix, I'll see you later," she said, hugging him again. "Dinner tonight at the borscht bowl club!"

Phoenix laughed, "Oh really? I'll be looking forward to it." He smiled and waved, walking away.

"Wait!" Ema shouted, running after him. When he turned around, she dug back into her purse, finding what she was looking for. She grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to lean down. "Hold still for a sec, ok?"

Pulling the stretchy blue skull cap out just a bit, she safety-pinned one of her old pins to his hat. "There! Now you have a nice keepsake and slightly better fashion." She smiled, admiring the yellow surprise-face pin on his hat.

Phoenix appeared confused, sliding the cap off so that he could take a look at what she had done. When he saw the pin, he chuckled, placing the hat back over the spikes in his hair. "Ema, you're a genius. Thank you, this is perfect!"

"I know, isn't it?" She beamed, proud of herself. "Well, I'll see you tonight!"

After Phoenix left, she located Klavier standing outside the women's restroom. He appeared none too happy. "What am I supposed to do? I can't go in there!"

Ema rolled her eyes, "Men, you're all useless." She pushed open the door and strolled in.

The handicapped stall was the only one still shut. The sound of Ema's shoes resonated off the tile floors and walls in a mostly clean and highly functional bathroom.

At the sound of her shoes, Ema supposed, a woman screamed, "A MIRROR! I LOST my MIRROR! I NEED A MIRROR! You! Do you HAVE a MIRROR?!"

She recognized the screeching immediately. "Mrs. Dumonde? There are mirrors out here above the sinks…"

"NO! Not that MIRROR! I NEED _ANOTHER_ MIRROR!!" The frantic screaming was deafening.

Sighing, Ema dug into her purse again, procuring a small pink hand-mirror that Lana had given her years ago. "Relax, Mrs. Dumonde. I have a mirror."

"You have a MIRROR!! GOOD!! Pass it to ME UNDER the STALL!!" The woman screamed.

"All right all right! I'll give it to you, just please stop screaming!" Ema winced, passing her hand mirror under the stall door.

Immediately, it was jerked away from her. She took a step back, wondering what was happening beyond the stall door as she heard a crinkling of plastic, followed by a tapping sound and frantic inhaling.

"Are you all right in there? Can you breathe?" Ema asked, knocking on the door lightly.

"YES I can BREATHE silly GIRL!" She barely had time to move before the door burst open. The pink mirror was thrust back into her hands as the witness strutted through the door. "THANK YOU for the MIRROR."

Without another word, the witness burst through the door to the bathroom, plowing into Klavier, who had apparently been listening just outside. There was a short conversation between the two of them as Ema quickly stowed her mirror back in her purse (without so much as a second glance) before joining them in the hallway.

By that point, only moments later, the conflict seemed resolved. Klavier turned to face her, shrugging and shaking his head. "Thank you, fräulein Skye. I don't know what I would do without you."

"I don't either," Ema agreed, folding her arms across her chest and smirking.

"We will be headed back to the police station for questioning now," Klavier said in response, snapping his fingers at the deranged witness, which seemed to bring her back to reality. "Why don't you..."

Oh no, he was going to tell her to do something, wasn't he?

She must have looked upset, because he hesitated for just a moment, peering closer at her. "...take the afternoon off today? It looks like you need it."

"Why thank you, Mr. Gavin. I couldn't agree with you more." Ema said politely, strolling past him, down the hallways, and out the door before grinning radiantly and hissing, _"Yes!"_

"You look like someone who just found out she has the afternoon off."

That voice… just a hint of a German accent… but she _knew_ that Klavier was still in the courthouse. So that only left…

"Kristoph," she spun around, facing the refined man in question as he descended the stone staircase in front of the courthouse. She realized, with embarrassment, that he must have seen her practically skipping down the court hallways with happiness just moments ago.

Her expression must have been strange, because when he reached her, he peered at her from behind those glasses and said, "I hope that I didn't offend you today. I do have the utmost respect for your detective skills."

"Even though I just started two days ago?" Ema laughed and shook her head. "No, it's ok. You warned me yesterday, and Phoenix was there to keep me company for the rest of the day."

"Ah, so he did show up. I assumed he would." Kristoph nodded, seeming to contemplate something for just a few moments as he readjusted his glasses. When he looked up, he fixed Ema with a small, almost adorably unsure, smile. "And really, I'm glad you weren't insulted by my courtroom demeanor. I would hate to think that I had caused you any harm…"

Before he could finish, Ema smirked, shifting her weight to one leg and resting her hand on her hip. "Please, it'll take more than that to offend me. If I can put up with your brother every day, I can certainly put up with you in the courtroom."

"But do you suppose you could put up with me for lunch _and_ dinner?"

Kristoph never failed to surprise her.

"Eh?" She responded brightly, feeling her face immediately flush with color. "I… well I suppose so…"

"Splendid. Then let's go to my car." He smiled cheerfully, pulling her by the hand to the court parking lot.

As she sat in the passenger side seat of his ultra-clean leather seated car, she murmured, "Should I ask where we are going this time, or is it a surprise?"

Kristoph started the engine, lowering his head a bit so that he could look at her from behind his glasses, "What would you prefer?"

"I don't know…surprise me?" With Kristoph's tastes, she knew it would be a new experience even if, by some off-chance, she happened to recognize the name of whatever restaurant he must have in mind.

He smiled, pulling out of the parking lot and into the street, "I was hoping you would say that."

As they drove down the street, Ema wondered just what other surprises Kristoph Gavin had in store for her.

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

What surprises indeed! If you've played the game, I'm sure you already know one of them.

Like always, let me know what you think! Thoughts, reviews, and love are all appreciated!


	7. Day 3: Lunch

_Time: 10:55 AM_

_Mood: Confused_

When Kristoph had said he wanted to have lunch with her, Ema had assumed he meant at a cozy little French café, or perhaps to a glitzy and loud restaurant full of upper-class patrons.

Kristoph parked in the second floor parking lot of a high rise condominium building.

"So umm… where _are_ we? I don't remember any restaurants quite this well hidden," Ema asked as she firmly shut the car door and followed Kristoph into the building.

"Ah, but you said you wanted it to be a surprise, no?" he pointed out, touching a teasing finger to her forehead. "But I'm sure you can figure it out. _Think_ fräulein detective."

And she thought. She thought about the shape and structure of the 90 story building, about the stability of the elevators as they went up to the 52nd floor, and even about the ugly choice in decoration the complex had chosen for its walls. But, she didn't see it coming.

Not until Kristoph pulled out his keys and unlocked the door.

Ema laughed as she walked into the spotless marble floored foyer, slipping her shoes off onto a nearby rug. "No way… you've got to be kidding!"

Kristoph only smiled, guiding her to the left where a very large kitchen opened up to face an even larger living room and a wall of windows overlooking the city and the sea. "Welcome to my kitchen. Please, have a seat."

He went through the dramatics of showing her to his shiny black kitchen table, pulling out a matching black backed chair with a plump white cushioned seat for her.

"Why thank you, sir." Ema nodded cordially to him and sat down, admiring the soft yet firm seat and the pristine white carpeting underneath her feet.

"You're welcome, fräulein Skye." Kristoph responded, tapping her shoulder with a firm yet gentle hand. "Why don't you rest here while I prepare lunch?"

Ema knew she should help him, but after today's trial, she decided that he owed it to her. Besides, she would probably just end up making the kitchen a mess anyway.

While Kristoph rummaged through the refrigerator and various cabinets, she took the chance to observe his home. His condo was far different from Klavier's. On his white walls hung perfectly placed impressionistic paintings. The furniture he had chosen was luxurious but not overbearing. Comfortable looking leather chairs were tactfully placed along the walls near shelves of books and CDs.

In one bookcase a beautifully antiquated violin caught her eye. "Kristoph, do you play the violin?"

He turned around, a wooden spoon in hand. "When I was younger I did. I've grown out of practice, but occasionally I'll pick it back up."

"So you still play then?" She asked, smirking, even though he had already turned around to continue cooking.

Kristoph chuckled, "If you can still call it playing."

Ema had a feeling that he was much better than he was letting on, but she didn't press the issue. Instead she remained content to watch him work, quickly and neatly dicing vegetables and cutlets of beef. After he had finished preparing, he heated cooking oil in a deep pan and tossed what she believed were onions, garlic, and beef into it. Intermittently, he would agitate it with a quick flick of the wooden spoon.

She remained content to watch his profile as he emptied the vegetables into the sizzling pan, stirring them. In what she could only assume was a show, he picked up the handle and tossed the vegetable and beef medley into the air, catching all of the pieces back in the pan. Ema laughed, clapping politely. He bowed and continued.

In a short few minutes, he had placed silverware and a large white plate with a generous helping of beef stir-fry in front of her, sitting down at the chair across from her with his own dish.

Ema didn't waste time digging in. It didn't take her long to put the food down, and after most of it had miraculously vanished (about a minute later) she marveled, "Kristoph, this is delicious! I'm almost sad that we had to go to La Dolce Vida yesterday."

"Please, I'd never claim to be _that_ good," he smiled, in between pieces of carrots himself. "But I will say that I'm glad you are enjoying lunch…"

His voice trailed off in a way that made Ema very suspicious. "Umm… is there a _reason_ you're saying that?"

Almost reluctantly, he nodded. "Do you remember where we've scheduled dinner tonight?"

"How could I forget? The Borscht Bowl Club!" Ema beamed, already thinking of how nice it would be to see Phoenix again.

"Precisely," Kristoph agreed, then continued ominously. "The Borscht Bowl Club has never been known for their food…with good reason."

"In that case…" Ema swallowed her last fork-full, giving him a highly serious look. Ever so subtly, she nudged her plate towards him again. "…I'll have seconds."

Kristoph laughed, standing and taking her plate. "You _are_ a smart girl!" He filled it again with a generous helping of stir-fry and returned the plate to her.

She ate a bit slower this time, waiting for Kristoph to finish his food before she finished hers. Few words were shared during lunch, but Ema didn't mind. Most of their time had been spent eating anyway, and wasn't that really the point of lunch?

After they finished, she carried her plate to the sink, taking time to admire his extremely well-stocked kitchen. An assortment of electronics stood in an orderly row along the back of one granite countertop. A few select steak knives were kept in a large wooden block off to the side. She didn't feel like it was her place to poke into his cabinets too, but she had a feeling they were similarly complete and organized.

"You really like to cook, don't you?" She smiled, turning back to him. "I could get used to a guy who likes to cook."

Ema immediately wished she hadn't said that, but before she could feel too bad about herself, Kristoph chuckled, "I certainly wouldn't mind cooking for you more often."

She wasn't sure if she heard it right, but there seemed to be an underlying tone to what Kristoph said. He meant it. Also, it seemed like he _wanted _ to cook for her.

Feeling awkward and somewhat out of place, she smiled and said, "that sounds very nice. We should do this again sometime next week."

"Why wait until next week? Why not tomorrow?" Kristoph said as he lead them both back to the front door for their shoes.

"_Tomorrow_?" Ema couldn't stop herself from sounding as surprised as she did. She bent down, sliding on one shoe as she spoke a bit more calmly. "I mean… sure. That'd be great!"

Kristoph laughed, "I don't want to force my cooking on you! If you don't want to…"

"Kristoph, don't be silly. Your cooking is fantastic, and I really don't mind your company." Ema stopped mid-shoe. Had she _really_ just said that?

Kristoph paused, resting a hand on the doorknob as he turned back to face her. His eyes seemed warm (such a contrast to this morning!) and his smile was gentle. "I really don't mind yours either."

They stood in the front foyer for a moment, gazing into each others eyes, before Ema realized she was still holding her shoe up to her foot like a moron. Feeling foolish, she finished putting it on. Kristoph had already opened the door for her.

She followed him back to his car, the silence between them driving her mad. That look he had given her… was it possible that he felt the same way too?

_Does he…_ No, she couldn't even bring herself to think it. There was no way.

The drive back went well. They talked about a smattering of different topics, and Ema found that she really meant what she had said in his apartment. She enjoyed the company of Kristoph Gavin. Quite a bit, actually…

Correction. The drive went well until she saw their destination. "What are we doing _here_?"

They both stepped out of the car and into the parking lot of the dog food factory.

"Don't tell me you really believed you had the afternoon off?" Kristoph shook his head. "In our profession, there is _always_ work to be done, and if I know my little brother, he is probably going mad by now without your help."

He was right.

Grudgingly, she had parted ways with Kristoph and trudged back into the current crime scene. When she found him, Klavier was seated on the bench in the main factory, clutching his hands to his head.

Ema sat beside him, pulling out her bag of snackoos. "All right glimmer-boy. What's the scoop?"

Klavier sat up, seeming a little startled that she was there. "Fräulein Skye? But I told you that you could leave…"

"And your brother told me I had to come back." She sighed, munching on a snackoo. She glanced over at him, noticing how distraught he looked, and tipped the bag in his direction. "Snackoo?"

"So this is Kristoph's doing? I should have known." He smirked, taking a karinto out of the bag. "Since you are here, I may as well fill you in."

Klavier finished his snackoo and gestured towards the factory. "We have combed through this entire factory, searching for clues, and have yet to come up with any evidence."

"That's not surprising," Ema commented, gazing critically at the factory. "This is really more of a job for a _forensic scientist_ than a police detective."

Just saying the words felt like a jab through her heart. Ema did her best not to let Klavier see her disappointment, but it seemed he was more observant than she had given him credit for.

"Fräulein Skye," he began gently, leaning forward so that he could catch her gaze. "Do you know anything about forensic science?"

"Know it? I love it!" Ema piped up happily, but her spirits fell as quickly as they had risen. "I just… well… it's not what I get to… I can't…"

She wasn't sure what she was trying to say, but she didn't have to finish. Klavier had already stood up, holding out a hand to her. His typical smile was back in place as he said, "come with me, I have something to show you."

Unsure, she took his hand and followed him through the factory and into the break room. "We had some forensic scientists in here earlier today. They weren't able to find anything, but they did leave something behind."

Ema's eyes lit as she saw the large cart of supplies. She dreamed of owning one of these someday. It had everything from fingerprinting powder to luminol on its shelves. "All these supplies… why didn't they find anything?"

"I don't know why. Maybe they weren't looking in the right place, maybe they were just fools…" Klavier shrugged. "Who can say?"

"This is _amazing!_ With these supplies a crime scene would be clear as crystal!" Ema exclaimed, running around the cart so that she could examine all the supplies on the other side as well.

"Would you like to help me investigate?"

"Huh?" Ema looked up at him, disbelief in her eyes. "You want _me_ to help you with forensic science?"

"Actually… I don't know much about it myself…" Klavier looked aside shoving his hands in his pockets sheepishly though he still continued to smile.

Ema beamed, "I'd be happy to teach you how, Klavier. Let's start with luminol!" She grabbed two spray bottles, handing one to Klavier. Then she led him out into the main area.

"It's easy. First you open the cap, and then spray wherever you think something looks suspicious." Demonstrating, she turned around and sprayed the floor. "See? Nothing happened. That means that no traces of blood are on the floor right here. If it were to turn bright blue, then it would indicate that…"

A cold spray landed on the back of her neck. "AAah!! Hey!"

Ema whipped around, glaring at Klavier (who still had his spray bottle pointed at her) in an accusing manner. "Why did you do that?!"

"You looked suspicious?" He smiled, then ducked as Ema retaliated with spray of luminol at him. "See what I mean?"

"I'll get you!" Ema cried out, chasing after him with the spray bottle while he laughed.

Klavier ran away from the previously existing evidence, likely so that they wouldn't end up trampling over any of it. That was fine. Ema decided she would get him anyway.

However, just as she almost got him, spraying the tips of his hair and largely a vat of dogfood in the back corner, she stopped, gasping. "Klavier! Come here!"

She sprayed the metal edges more, and by the time the prosecutor had reached her, the bright blue splotches were very apparent.

"What does this mean, fräulein Skye?" he asked.

"It means that blood was spilt here, and _someone_ tried to wipe it off." Ema stated somberly. "And also…"

Before he could react, Ema sprayed Klavier in the side with luminol. "…I gotcha back!" She grinned, flipping down her pink shaded glasses and turning away as a spray of luminol hit her back.

* * *

_Time: 2:45 PM_

_Mental state: Sound!_

_Mood: Science is PHUN!_

An hour and a half later, Ema had showed Klavier how to use several pieces of forensic equipment. They had used the luminol to find traces of blood on a vat of dogfood and had discovered a strange imprint left in the dogfood. Together, they made a plaster model of the impression, and while they waited for that to dry, they had dusted for fingerprints.

The fingerprinting powder had revealed prints on the rim of the same dogfood vat where they had found blood. They were able to pull the prints from the metal and even identify them…

"Mrs. Dumonde?" Ema puzzled, attempting to wrap her brain around this one. "But why would she care at all about a vat of dogfood? She doesn't even have a dog!"

"No, she doesn't, but this is a very interesting lead," Klavier touched a finger to his chin thoughtfully, surmising the situation. "There may be more to our witness than we know."

Ema knew where this was going and groaned, "But she's _crazy!_ What good will asking her about these things do?"

"People say the most _interesting _ things when you put evidence in front of them," Klavier's grin, though still charming, was nothing short of devilish.

* * *

_Time: 3:05 PM_

_Mental state: Frazzled_

_Mood: That HORRIBLE deathcycle…_

Twenty minutes and a few curses later, Ema stumbled off Klavier's motorcycle feeling like she wanted to retch. "_Why_ can't you just drive a _car_ like normal people?"

"Because that wouldn't be as much fun, now would it?" Klavier flashed her his winning smile and parked his motorcycle.

Together they stood in front of a strange yellow one story house. A poorly shingled roof covered the dilapidated wood sided home. Weeds overran the yard, and Ema had a feeling the neighbors were less than appreciative of the yellow dandelions.

"This is our witness's home?" Ema asked doubtfully. "Are you sure you brought us to the right place?"

"Ja." Klavier affirmed, gesturing with a ringed finger towards the window. Inside, their witness was scurrying around, shaking her hands and screaming at someone.

Again, Ema felt hesitant. She _really_ didn't want to go in there and deal with that witness again, but it looked like there was no other alternative. Setting her jaw, she purposefully marched up to the door, but before she could knock, the door swung open.

"_You _ again! Saw you coming _what do you want?!_" Mrs. Dumonde said in a hushed whisper, cringing against the side of her door.

Yes. Just as strange as earlier.

Thankfully, Klavier stepped forward before Ema had to do anything.

"We would like to ask you a few questions, if you wouldn't mind," he said, giving her his award-winning smile.

The force of the smile seemed to affect her, as she shrunk back into her house, leaving the door open for them to enter. "_Ok but hurry!_"

Ema had no problem with that. She wanted as little to do with this witness as possible.

The interior of the house smelled like cat pee and garlic. Though the front room was surprisingly intact, Ema doubted the remainder of the house was the same.

"I must make tea!" Mrs. Dumonde stated, walking with determination into the next room.

While given the strange opportunity, Ema decided to look around. A discolored couch with similarly discolored pillows sat along one wall. A large drawing table stood in the corner of the room, papers randomly scattered on top.

Curious as ever, Ema observed the papers, sliding them aside so that she could see the papers below and gasped. Silently, she signaled for Klavier to come over.

On the desk, hidden beneath other worthless drawings of cats, was a drawing of two men laying dead on the ground next to a large cylinder labeled "dog food." Underneath that picture lay another. They looked like plans of some sort. For some reason, they seemed very familiar. Way too familiar….

"These are the _same_ plans we found at Mr. Gofree's house!" Ema said in an excited whisper. As she was about to pick them up, Mrs. Dumonde's voice made her pull quickly back.

"Do you like my drawings?" She asked, for once her voice was level and calm. Almost sane. The sudden change was creepy.

"Your artwork of the cats was impressive," Klavier jumped in quickly. "Very life-like."

"Thank you, but I don't like people admiring my artwork." She responded, an eerie grin on her lips.

Ema wanted to leave. Badly. As the silence approached an unbearable level, Mrs. Dumonde spoke again. "I think you two should go."

"Thank you for your time." Klavier said cordially as they left.

Ema nearly ran to Klavier's motorcycle, grabbing the helmet and hopping into the back seat as soon as he was ready.

Klavier started the engine, chuckling. "I've never seen you so excited to ride my '_horrible deathcycle_.'"

"Just get out of here." Ema growled.

Klavier mock-bowed, pulling into the street. "As you command, fräulein Skye."

* * *

_Time: 3:30 PM_

_Mood: Still shaken_

_Location: Dog food factory at Main and 19th_

Oddly enough, the crime scene felt more comfortable, almost homey, after being at Mrs. Dumonde's abode.

"She had the exact same drawing we found at Mr. Gofree's house!" Ema exclaimed, once she had finally settled down from being at the crazy lady's house. "But what does that mean?"

"It means that somehow, Mrs. Dumonde and Mr. Gofree are connected in this murder," Klavier surmised, staring at the white tape outlines of the victims thoughtfully. "There are a few possibilities."

"Mrs. Dumonde may have framed Mr. Gofree," Ema began listing the options on her fingers. "Mr. Gofree may have tried to frame her and failed. Or, they could have been working together."

"Any are possible, but one thing is definitely clear now," Klavier agreed. "Mrs. Dumonde is far from innocent."

"But how can we prove that?" Ema frowned. "Without that picture, we don't have a case against her…"

"Fräulein Skye, I think you have been hanging around defense attorneys for too long." Klavier turned his gaze to her, smiling mischievously.

"What do you mean?" Did she dare to ask?

"Did you forget what you are now, fräulein _detective?_"

It was times like this that she decided Klavier Gavin wasn't that bad of a guy.

"A warrant! I need to get a search warrant!" She exclaimed, the possibilities flashing through her mind.

Ema pointed to the door, feeling more passionate than ever before about her new job. "To the deathcycle!"

"I wish you wouldn't call it that… it sounds _so_ less cool…" Klavier grimaced and followed her out the door.

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

Klavier makes his way into the picture again! We can't forget about him, now can we? :)

As always, please leave the love or hate! (Review!)


	8. Day 3: Dinner and the First Kiss

_Time: 4:15 PM_

_Mood: Alive!_

It was the quickest Ema had ever seen a search warrant issued. Then again, she had never seen one issued. Nor had she ever had Klavier Gavin with her.

There were perks to having a famous rock star prosecutor on your side.

They arrived back at Mrs. Dumonde's household. Ema warded away the instinctive chill coming off the house and walked confidently to the doorstep.

Klavier did the work, talking Mrs. Dumonde into opening the door for them again. Ema didn't really pay attention to that. The thing that caught her eye, even before they entered, was the drawing table.

The _empty_ drawing table.

"I thought it was time to get rid of all that old garbage," Mrs. Dumonde explained, before either of them could ask any questions.

They dutifully searched her house anyway, but nothing turned up. It seemed she had burned the drawings in a sudden urge to use her fireplace.

Dispirited, Ema left and mounted the deathcycle. "I thought we really had her." She murmured, pouting into Klavier's jacket.

"What are you talking about?" Klavier turned his head, looking back at her through the corners of his eyes. When she flicked her gaze upwards, she saw his trademark grin. "This was a success. If there was ever any doubt before, there isn't now."

"You mean…" Ema sat up, catching his drift.

Klavier nodded, "Now we know the truth. She is _not_ innocent. We just have to figure out how all of the pieces fit together before tomorrow…"

"Ugh, what a nightmare…" She groaned, deflating quickly.

He passed her a helmet then started the engine. "But why don't you leave that up to me? I hear you have a dinner date tonight with an old friend at the Borscht Bowl Club."

Ema spun on him quickly. "How did you…"

Klavier smiled and shrugged, pulling into the street. "Nothing happens at the courthouse that I don't eventually find out about."

Despite the ominous undertone those words may have had, Ema found that she didn't mind. "Yes, we're meeting Phoenix Wright there tonight, though I've been warned that the food is a little… well… bad."

"A good call," The prosecutor nodded. "By _we_ I assume you mean yourself and Kristoph?"

"Unless you _really_ want to subject yourself to it too." Ema gave him a sarcastic sidelong glance. "Dare you to, actually."

"Dare?" Klavier tried to toy with his blonde bangs, but his hand instead hit his helmet. He seemed to consider it for a moment but pulled back. "I live out my dares on the stage. I'll leave this one up to you, fräulein Skye."

"Ok, but don't say I didn't try to invite you," she replied, making her way to the door.

"Oh I won't. I'll make sure everyone knows you invited me to cold borscht and indigestion tonight," he grinned back.

Ema turned around, sticking her tongue out at him. "It's just because you have a weak famous-person stomach!" She was certain that her instant noodle habit would help her tonight.

"Keep telling yourself that." Wait, had she voiced her noodle habit out loud?

It seemed she would never know, because all she got out of him was a "Gute nacht, fräulein Skye."

She would get back at him for swearing at her in German later.

Before she could even ponder the bus routes and the best way to get to the Borscht Bowl Club, a familiar classy car pulled up to the curb. With a smile, she pulled open the passenger side door and dropped into the leather-bound seat. "Hello Kristoph."

"Hello fräulein Skye," he replied, a very pleasant smile on his lips. "Are you ready for the worst dinner of your life?"

"Oh I hardly see how it could be much worse than what I usually have," Ema said flatly, looking out the window as the car began to move.

"We'll test that theory," he said with a small smirk, pulling out into the street and presumably making his way to their dinner destination. "So, did you save my little brother?"

"Yes," Ema grinned, "Though he still needs to figure things out himself now."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Kristoph commented, taking a left turn.

"He probably will, but I'm glad _he's _dealing with Mrs. Dumonde and not _me_." She said, feeling shivers run up and down her spine just at the thought of the creepy lady.

Kristoph chuckled. "It sounds like you've had quite the day."

"She's a psycho! And annoying." Ema tossed her hands in the air, exasperated with the situation. "She did nothing but hover around us in a daze the day of the murder, this morning she wouldn't testify in court because she wanted to borrow my _mirror_ in the bathroom that already _had_ mirrors outside, and this afternoon she decided to burn the only evidence we could find in her house."

"I _did_ have my suspicions about her…" Kristoph pressed his lips together, thinking about something. After a few moments, he asked, "Fräulein Skye, would this evidence have happened to be a _drawing_? A _sketch_ perhaps of murder plans?"

She could see why Kristoph was so effective in court. "Yes, they were… how did you know?"

"What can I say?" he shrugged, "I'm good at reading people."

Ema wondered briefly what Kristoph read in her. Did he notice all of those times she was flustered around him? Did he realize what she thought of him?

She thought about it the rest of the way there.

...

_Time: 6:30 PM_

_Location: Borscht Bowl Club_

_Mood: Excited_

Phoenix Wright greeted them from the piano wearing the same clothes Ema had seen him wear in court. She smiled, shaking her head. "Still the hobo-wear?"

He shrugged, "When you play piano _here_ for a living, expectations aren't very high."

Something seemed different about him. It may have just been the atmosphere of the restaurant, but it was enough that Ema noticed the change immediately. Phoenix slouched back more than usual, his normally bright eyes taking on a somewhat glazed-over quality. His overall demeanor was apathetic.

At least he was still wearing her pin, she noted with relief.

His eyes flicked from Ema to Kristoph. "Kris, how's it going?"

"Always the same, little time and much to do." Kristoph replied, then began to delve into what seemed like the second half of a story that Ema had no prior knowledge about.

Taking this opportunity to look around, she noted that the restaurant was rather quaint, almost lodge-like. Wooden tables and chairs filled the establishment whose only source of heat seemed to be a fireplace. She was suddenly thankful that it rarely snowed in LA.

Phoenix continued to slouch on the piano bench as he listened to Kristoph. His entire demeanor had changed. Not only his apathetic body language but the disinterested responses that he gave concerned her.

She wondered if he had started abusing illegal drugs, or other substances perhaps…

Ema looked around for a very short time before she noticed it. Underneath Phoenix, she saw a crate full of bottles that looked suspiciously like…

"Grape juice again, Phoenix?" Kristoph asked, seeming to read her thoughts. It was almost creepy. "You know it isn't good for you to drink too much."

"Maybe you should have some yourself? It'll take the edge off my piano playing." Phoenix chuckled, pulling out a bottle and sliding it onto the table beside him.

Ema and Kristoph both took a seat in the wooden chairs closest to Phoenix as he swung around to face the piano. "Ready for a masterpiece?"

"What do we have the pleasure of hearing tonight?" Kristoph asked.

Phoenix paused for what must have been half a minute, seeming to mull over the question for quite some time in his head. Finally, he replied, "it's an improvement on an old theme."

Much like when Klavier had first played air guitar for her, Ema wasn't sure what to expect. She certainly didn't expect to hear chopsticks.

After thirty seconds, Phoenix turned back around. "Well?"

Ema sat with her mouth agape. Since _when _did Phoenix act like a complete and utter moron?

Kristoph clapped. "It certainly is an improvement… over last time."

Phoenix half-bowed. "I do what I can."

Their waitress arrived at the table, a bored looking girl who chewed gum with her mouth open. "You want hot borscht or cold borscht?"

Ema marveled at the options. "Hot please."

"Cold." Kristoph replied.

The waitress stared at them, not saying anything or bothering to offer them drinks, and left. Ema stared after her. "Wow, what service."

"Indeed, you'll find nothing but the finest at the Borscht Bowl Club." Kristoph chuckled.

"Dinner is even better," Phoenix remarked, swiveling around again to face the piano. "Time for another tune…"

This time Ema had the pleasure of hearing a more abstract piece of music. So abstract, in fact, that she could swear he was just playing random notes while he held down the right pedal.

"Honestly, I was just playing random notes while I held down the right pedal," Phoenix confessed when he turned back around.

"I could tell." Kristoph admitted.

Ema shook her head, refusing to accept that the proud defense attorney she had once known was now reduced to this… really poor piano player. Those thoughts on her mind, she recalled why she had come here in the first place. "So Phoenix, how did you end up here?"

The question seemed to catch Phoenix off-guard. At least, it seemed like it to Ema. The way he suddenly tensed, the small spikes of hair in the back of his neck raising just a bit, clued her in that it was not a favored subject of his.

However, when he turned around, Phoenix was his usual self. Well… his _new_ usual self. He chuckled through his apathy, shrugging, "I made a bad choice in a court case seven years ago."

"Seven years ago?" Ema asked. "What happened?"

Phoenix paused to consider something for a few moments then began. "It was a typical court case for me, so naturally I found myself stuck in a corner."

"Naturally." Ema agreed, remembering the numerous times Phoenix had found his way out of impossible situations in the past with her sister's case alone.

"Earlier that day, I was given _forged evidence_," Phoenix paused, looking at both Ema and Kristoph in turn.

Even though she had started to get used to the fact that hobo Phoenix would just _stop talking_ every now and then, this seemed unusual to her. She looked at Phoenix and then at Kristoph. It seemed for a moment like both of them had become more tense at the subject.

It was probably because Kristoph cared about Phoenix too, Ema supposed. Of course hearing this story would make him uncomfortable too. No wonder he didn't want to tell it to her yesterday.

Finally, Phoenix continued, finishing his sentence. "…but I didn't know it was forged. I tried to present it, was caught, and forced out of law for good. Guess I should have looked before I leapt." Phoenix chuckled, but his laughter was reserved, not carrying the same genuineness that Ema remembered.

"But that's not fair! They should have had a trial for _you_ or something!" She exclaimed.

Phoenix shrugged, "In a way, they did. It's hard to prove that you didn't present false evidence when the eyes of the entire court watch you do it."

Ema's expression was somber, a small pout on her lips. "Poor Mr. Wright…"

"Hot borscht. Cold borscht." The waitress returned, throwing the bowls down on the table.

Ema dipped her spoon into hers, put it in her mouth, and made a face.

Phoenix chuckled. "Another satisfied customer!"

"It tastes ok, but it's _cold!_" she shoved the bowl towards Kristoph. "I think you have mine."

Feeling the side of the bowl, Kristoph nodded. "It seems I do." He pushed it to her side. "Enjoy."

While Ema forced the mediocre food down her throat, she had the pleasure of listening to Phoenix's rendition of something she swore sounded like the Steel Samurai theme.

After he finished half his dinner, Kristoph put his spoon down, turning to face Phoenix, who had begun to sip 'grape juice' out of a bottle. "Phoenix, where did you get that interesting hat accessory?"

Phoenix's brain did indeed seem to be slow. After waiting a few seconds for him to answer, Ema impatiently cleared her throat. The man smiled warmly back at her. "From Ema, of course! Who else?"

"You gave that to him, fräulein Skye?" Kristoph asked, appearing mildly surprised.

Ema nodded proudly, showing him a few assorted face pins that adorned her purse. "Aren't they cute? I think that one is perfect for Mr. Wright."

"It is." Phoenix grinned, tapping the pin playfully. "Thank you, Ema. I like it very much."

"You would," Kristoph turned his palms up, shaking his head. "I guess there is no helping it then, Phoenix's style is again at the mercy of a girl."

"What do you mean?" Ema asked, feeling like she was missing some important detail.

"My daughter gave me this," Phoenix replied, tapping the knit hat with a smile.

"Daughter?!" Ema cried, shocked beyond belief. "You have a _daughter??_"

Phoenix nodded, pulling out his cell phone. He opened it, showing her a picture of the girl inside. "My darling Trucy. I don't know what I would do without her."

"I don't either, she seems to be the one that puts food on your table." Kristoph chided him with a smile.

"She does!" Phoenix laughed, tucking his phone back away.

"You've put your daughter to _work_ already?" Ema said in disbelief. "But she looks so young!"

"She's a magician," Phoenix explained, a soft look in his eyes. "Her magic shows are very popular at the local pub."

"Somehow, I think I can forgive that." Ema said, deciding that magic shows were better than sewing dresses in a sweatshop like she had imagined.

The waitress came back for their mostly empty bowls and Kristoph checked his watch. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be right back," he said, standing up from the table.

"I thought _girls_ were the ones who flock to the bathroom after dinner." Ema teased him with a smirk.

Phoenix grinned, for the first time that evening responding quickly. "Kris may as well be one. Ask him to show you his _nail polish_ sometime…"

"Now now Phoenix, let's not tease." Kristoph scoffed, making his way to the restroom. "Ariadoney is a fabulous brand."

Ema laughed, deciding that later on she would have to use this knowledge against him.

As the door to the restroom closed, Phoenix turned quickly to her, lowering his voice so that only she could hear him. "Ema, I need to ask you something, and we don't have much time, so please answer truthfully."

"Huh?" Ema was surprised by the sudden change in Phoenix. "Sure. What is it?"

"How long have you known Kristoph?" He asked, confusing her more. _Why_ was he talking about Kristoph?

"Umm… about two days." She replied, surprised with her own answer. Had she really only known him for two days? It seemed like their relation spanned weeks at least…

"Really? Then good, it's not too late," Phoenix rubbed the stubble on his chin, thinking about something. "Ema, you might have realized this already, but Kristoph is a little different than other guys."

Just _what _was Phoenix driving at? "I… I don't understand…" Ema faltered. "Are you saying he's _gay?_"

"No, that's not it." He shook his head. "True though that may be. My concern is that you seem to be very…" the man paused, searching for the most appropriate word. "…_fond _of him, otherwise I would never mention this to you."

Without really waiting for her to respond, he continued, "He will always smile on the outside, but…"

Before he could finish, the bathroom door swung open, revealing Kristoph's smiling face as he dried his hands on a nearby tablecloth. "No towels in that bathroom!"

Phoenix slouched away from her, resuming his glazed-over look from before. "You don't say!"

Ema didn't say much for the remainder of their time there. She watched as Phoenix and Kristoph exchanged goodbyes and added her own as they left. "Goodbye Mr. Wright!"

"Goodbye, Ema. Take care…" He responded, glancing meaningfully at her.

Unfortunately, she hadn't the slightest idea what that meaning could be.

...

_Time: 8:15 PM_

_Location: Kristoph's car_

_Mood: Perplexed and shaken_

She was perplexed and just a bit shaken. Phoenix would never try to lead her the wrong way, but just what had he meant earlier? What was he trying to tell her about Kristoph?

These thoughts continued to fill her mind as she fell into her seat in Kristoph's car. Finally, the sound of his voice snapped her out of it.

"I hope dinner was not too unbearable, fräulein Skye."

She looked over, seeing the usual pleasant smile as he drove to some destination. "No, it's much better than instant noodles."

"Instant noodles?" He arched an eyebrow.

"Eh, yeah. I've been eating those lately," she replied sheepishly.

"Oh dear, we will have to remedy that." He decided, turning onto a darkened pathway that lead steeply uphill.

Ema wondered where they were going. Trees surrounded them on both sides, obscuring her view of anything. Trepidation filled her as she recalled Phoenix's words from not too long ago.

_He will always smile on the outside, but…_

But what? Did Ema dare know?

The car stopped, and Kristoph turned to her. "We're here."

"Where is here?" She asked doubtfully.

"Come outside and you will see." Kristoph closed his door, walking around the car so that he could open Ema's door for her. Like a perfect gentleman, he held his hand out to her.

Ema took it, walking through the trees with him. When they emerged, she gasped.

Pink and white carnations covered the ground around her, and beyond that, she had a magnificent view of the city below. A bright feeling filled her chest as she took in the sight.

The wind rose around them, scattering a few of the flowers and carrying her attention to the man who stood next to her. He was simply standing there, a soft look in his eyes as he took one of her hands in his.

She dared not think it. Really, she didn't, but somewhere within her, she knew what would happen next. "Kristoph? What is all of this?"

"_This_," he gestured around them, "is for you. It is my apology for not being able to take you somewhere decent for dinner tonight."

"But _this_," Kristoph dipped his hand into his pocked, pulling out a silver necklace, at the end of which dangled a small silver heart, "goes along with a question."

Ema barely breathed as Kristoph unclasped the necklace, draped it around her neck, and refastened it. She knew what would come next.

Kristoph looked deeply into her eyes, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face with a gentle warm hand. "I like you fräulein Skye, perhaps more than you know." He stepped in closer, and she could smell the light scent of his cologne.

"Would you give me the pleasure of being mein fräulein?"

"Kristoph…" How could she say no? A soft smile touched her lips. "Of course I will."

"I was hoping you would say that," Kristoph smiled, moving closer. She could feel the warmth of his body on hers. Without hesitation, he leaned in, briefly touching his lips to hers.

She stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure of how to react. This is what she'd wanted, wasn't it? It's what had consumed her thoughts for the last two days!

Deciding that she really should do something, she circled her arms around Kristoph, pulling him closer and enjoying the feeling of his body against hers.

No words needed to be spoken. They basked in the moonlight together for the next hour, sitting amongst the sweet fragrance of the carnations, holding each other closely.

Ema closed her eyes, resting her head against Kristoph's shoulder. Despite Phoenix's words, she felt safe in his arms, like they were meant to be together.

Besides, with Kristoph around, what could possibly go wrong?

...

_Time: 10:58 PM_

_Location: Back at home_

_Mood: In love…_

_Tonight was like a fairly-tale dream come true. Kristoph was a perfect gentleman all evening, he bought me more flowers than I could count, and he kissed me. _

_And… I am now officially dating Kristoph Gavin._

Ema paused for a moment. It felt strange to think that, let alone _write_ it. She tried again.

_I am **dating** Kristoph Gavin!!_

Ema smiled, setting her book back down. It had been one crazy day, but somehow everything had turned out perfect in the end.

The only thing that concerned her at all was Phoenix. He had been different tonight and had started to say something… but what did that matter? If it was important, he would have just told her, right?

_"Kristoph Gavin…" _she thought as she closed her eyes, her smile probably bigger than that of a Hindu cow. _"What will our lives be like together, I wonder?"_

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

What indeed! Kristoph lovers, this chapter is for you! Kristoph haters, never fear, Klavier will be back soon. :)

I apologize for the ugly formatting. A certain site would not allow me to change things so they look pretty.

As usual, please review!


	9. Day 4: First Case Closed

_Time: 7:30 AM_

_Location: The courthouse_

_Mood: Sleepy, but happy_

Ema sat on the defense's side of the court, blissfully far away from Klavier's fangirls. Although today, she didn't think it could have bothered her if the _entire_ courtroom was full of them. Nothing could take her happiness away.

She stared dreamily at the back of Kristoph's head, listening as he cross examined several of the same witnesses. The case was very close. Each time Klavier would present evidence or a theory, Kristoph would find a way to dispel whatever assumptions he had made.

One thing was clear though: neither Gavin brother thought Mrs. Dumonde was innocent. When it was her turn on the witness stand, both Gavins tore into her until she was reduced to a frantic nervous mess and tried to run screaming from the courtroom.

Bailiff Joe brought her back.

Klavier had used the blood and fingerprints to cast doubt on her in the eyes of the court, but the evidence, though it should be thoroughly solid, was still lacking. The plaster model they had made had the imprint of a crinkled ziplock bag, which didn't appear to tie into anything with the case at all.

There was no concrete proof that Mrs. Dumonde had done anything illegal.

It was quite a predicament. Ema wondered how they would get out of it. Obviously Mrs. Dumonde had done it, but how could they possibly catch her? What could the ziplock bag mean?

Though she couldn't see his expression, she had noticed Kristoph perk up after the mention of the ziplock bag. It seemed like he had an idea, but she couldn't guess what that might be.

"I think we need to call another witness, Klavier," Kristoph said. "There is an important testimony that we still have not heard."

"The defense calling a witness? My, this is unusual." The white bearded judge commented.

"Who did you have in mind?" Klavier asked.

Kristoph turned around, and his calm blue eyes locked onto her. "Ema Skye."

Everyone seemed shocked, especially her.

"Fräulein Skye?" Klavier shook his head. "But why?"

"Because she is, indeed, a witness to events involved with this crime… and not just as the head detective on the scene," Kristoph explained just enough to perk the interest of the court and the judge.

Klavier conceded, turning his eyes immediately to where she sat in the courtroom. Either he was extremely good at finding people in crowds, or he had figured out where she was sitting long ago. Ema wondered if he had been watching her through today's trial. She had been transfixed on Kristoph for so long that she honestly didn't know.

"Fräulein Skye, if you would please," he said, gesturing to the witness stand.

Ema made her way back down to the center of the courtroom, sensing the eyes of everyone on her again. It was an unsettlingly familiar feeling.

"If you would please state your name and occupation for the record, once more," Klavier asked.

"Ema Skye, police detective for the LAPD." Ema stated, clutching her purse a little with nervous anxiety. What could they possibly want from her? What other testimony could she possibly give about a murder that she hadn't witnessed?

"She is your witness, Kris," Klavier said, indicating towards Ema. For some reason, his tone held a bit of what she would almost describe as resentment. "Ask away."

"Thank you," Kristoph nodded to his younger brother, then fixed his eyes on Ema. "Ema Skye, would you please tell the court what happened yesterday when you found Mrs. Dumonde in the restroom?"

"What?!" Ema exclaimed. "I don't see how that applies."

"Please, it is crucially important that you remember everything exactly like it happened," Kristoph said gently but firmly. "Start from just before you entered the restroom."

"Well, if you insist…" Ema said doubtfully, then did her best to recall the memories. "I went into the bathroom because Klavier was too scared to enter the women's restroom. Mrs. Dumonde was in the back stall and kept asking me for a _mirror_. I finally gave her mine. I'm not sure why she wanted it, but she returned it to me a minute or so later and left."

"I believe it is still my turn, correct?" Kristoph asked.

Klavier nodded in consent. "_She's all yours_." Ema could have imagined it, but something about the way the prosecutor said those words seemed different than usual. It was almost as if…

Ema shook the thought away, focusing on Kristoph, who looked like he wanted to say something to her. Despite what had happened last night, seeing Kristoph behind the defense's bench gave her a small sense of trepidation.

"Fräulein Skye, when you gave Mrs. Dumonde your mirror, you mentioned that she kept it for a short amount of time. Could you please describe what happened in this time?" Kristoph asked.

"Sure," Ema nodded. "I stood outside and waited while she did something inside the bathroom stall. I couldn't see what was happening, but I heard crinkling plastic, a tapping sound, and then it sounded like she was trying to breathe."

"…why?" Attention was suddenly drawn to Klavier, who had his fist on the bench in front of him, a tight grimace on his lips. "…why is this the _first_ time I have heard this information??"

"Thank you, fräulein Skye," Kristoph said, ignoring his brother, then turned his attention back to the court. "Three nights ago, two men were murdered, both of which have been on the police radar for years. Why, you might ask?"

Kristoph placed a hand on the defense bench, leaning forward with determination. "For dealing Pep."

The crowd murmured faintly, then quieted down at the judge's gavel.

"Fräulein Skye, please tell us about the illegal substance Pep," he commanded.

Chemistry really wasn't her strong suit, and she had just started crime scene investigation, but she nodded, determined to do her best. "Pep is a white powdery substance that can be ingested but is more commonly inhaled through the nostrils. It produces a temporary euphoric feeling and is often followed by panic, hysteria, and overall… well… craziness."

From the side benches, she noticed Daryan Crescend shaking his head, and she thought she heard him murmur something like, "such a noob."

"That will be sufficient." Kristoph said with a small smile. Without taking further time, he dove right into what Ema assumed was the next phase of attack. "A mysterious ziplock bag is missing at the crime scene. Ema Skye hears a crinkling of plastic in the bathroom. The very drug that the victims deal is inhaled through the nose. Ema Skye hears frantic inhaling. The witness is known to be 'panicked' and 'crazy.' I can come to only one good conclusion…"

Kristoph paused, Ema suspected for dramatic effect. Then, he turned, pointing his finger in one fluid motion at the witness. "Mrs. Dumonde, on the night of the murder you were at the factory _buying illegal Pep_ from the victims, and for some reason, when things went bad, _you killed them_ and _framed Mr. Gofree!_"

The courtroom began to murmur, and as Mrs. Dumonde started sputtering some indignant response, he shocked them all with his next statement. "But that wasn't good enough for you. You _left_ your bag of Pep in the factory on accident, perhaps it wasn't on your mind as much after you killed the victims. So the following night, you _reentered_ the factory, _shooting_ Detective Gumshoe to get in."

At this, the courtroom _did_ break into surprised murmurs and gasps.

"Objection!" Klavier cried, pointing his finger at Kristoph. "You tell a nice tale, but where is your proof?"

"I was hoping you would ask that," Kristoph's smile was small but certain as he turned to Ema again. "Fräulein Skye, do you still have your mirror?"

"Yes…" Ema said hesitantly, touching her purse. "It's in my purse."

"Could you please take it out for the court to see?" he asked.

"Sure…" Ema opened her purse, finding it strange that one of her often useless items was somehow important. But as she withdrew the mirror from her purse, even she gasped.

On the face of the mirror were streaks of white powder and similarly powdered fingerprints. Ema decided that she really needed to observe things better when people gave them back to her.

"There's… white powder, and fingerprints!" Ema murmured, handing the mirror to the bailiff, who brought it to Klavier.

"My, this seems like important evidence." The judge commented. "Prosecutor Gavin, how quickly can you have this examined?"

Klavier smirked, but it was different than his usual charming grin. "Thirty minutes."

"Then it's settled. We will have a thirty minute recess while the identity of these fingerprints is determined. Court is temporarily adjourned." The judge stated, banging his gavel on the desk.

Ema was bewildered, and she turned immediately to look at Kristoph. He signaled her over then took spoke in a subdued yet sophisticated voice when she was close enough. "That was fantastic, fräulein Skye. I couldn't have asked for a better testimony."

"I'm glad I could deliver," Ema said, breathing a sigh of relief. "But it seemed like you _knew_ things were going to happen this way today. Why didn't you tell me you needed my testimony earlier?"

"Because I didn't want you to give anything away," he answered simply, leading her out into the waiting room. Then, with a quieter murmur and a smirk he added, "It's fun to watch Klavier squirm."

She had to admit, she wasn't really watching Klavier, but she assumed it would have been interesting indeed. "You really used to torment him when you were younger, didn't you?" She asked with a wry smirk.

"Some say I never stopped," Kristoph smiled in response, then tapped Ema's forehead. "I get the feeling _you_ were quite the tormentor to your older sister when you were younger too. Am I wrong?"

"_Everyone_ knows I haven't stopped," she grinned happily, thinking of all her sister had given her, including that mirror… "It's so strange… I wonder what Lana would think right now if she knew that her mirror was being used as _evidence_…"

"Didn't I tell you it would come in handy?" a voice said and tapped her shoulder.

Ema spun around, cried happily, then threw her arms around Lana. "Sis! I didn't know you'd be here today!"

Lana beamed. "I missed you yesterday in court, so I couldn't possibly miss today. You were fan-tas-tic, Ema!" she said, her tone of voice letting Ema know that she really meant what she said.

"I learned from the best!" When they pulled away, Ema gestured to Lana. "Kristoph, this is my sister Lana. Lana, this is Kristoph Gavin."

"We've met," Lana nodded to him. "You've become even more skilled in the courtroom, Mr. Gavin."

"Thank you. I haven't seen you around the courtroom for a while now," Kristoph said.

"It's not my scene anymore," Lana shrugged, then turned her attention back to Ema. "Ema, you're busy right now, and I know there are things you have to do. Let's meet for lunch later when you're done, ok?"

"Sounds great!" Ema replied, and watched her sister fade back into the masses of people.

"That was… random." Kristoph commented.

"It's Lana, she does that." Ema shrugged. "She's always watching when you least expect it."

Kristoph blinked, pausing for a moment as if he were collecting his thoughts. He readjusted his glasses before offering a comment. "That almost sounds like something from a horror movie."

She laughed, "when I was little, I used to think that too! But now it's just… Lana. Lana is Lana."

"I suppose! Well, if you'll excuse me, there is something I must do before trial begins again," Kristoph nodded to her, gave her hands a small squeeze, and left.

Ema wondered what it was he had to do, but didn't question him. She abruptly found herself alone in the semi-crowded waiting room. Feeling a little out of place, she searched for an unoccupied chair. Failing to find one, she settled for leaning against the cool wooden walls.

"Ema, nice work."

A small smile played on Ema's lips. She knew that voice too. "Mr. Wright, you're here again? When do you ever work?"

Phoenix chuckled, leaning against a section of wall next to her. He was, again, wearing his hobo-wear, and carrying around his (now) characteristic bottle of grape juice. "Trust me, I think the patrons are better off without me there anyway."

"Oh, I don't think so…" she began to say but was distracted when she glanced over at him. Phoenix had a strangely concerned look in his eyes, and it looked as if he really wanted to say something but was trying his best not to. "…what is it?"

"What is what?" He asked.

She frowned and rolled her eyes. "What is it you wanted to say? I can tell you have something on your mind."

Phoenix paused for a while, seeming to consider this question. Finally he shrugged. "It can wait. Let's get back into the courtroom before we can't find seats anymore."

Ema was quickly distracted by the fact that everyone was indeed pouring into the courtroom again. She wondered what it was that Phoenix would have said as she followed him to a seat on the defense's side. She assumed that if it was really important, he would have just spit it out.

That was the Phoenix Wright she _used_ to know, anyway. Blunt, to the point, always sticking his foot in his mouth…

She smiled a little as she remembered those times years ago. But the Phoenix Wright sitting next to her now was someone very different. He was slow on the uptake, reserved, and in many ways very hobo-like, but he was still that friend she had known long ago.

The next section of the trial went as planned. The powdery fingerprints were indeed matched to Mrs. Dumonde, and Daryan Crescend was able to trace the mirror's pep to the type the victims had been known to sell.

It was all falling together so nicely. Ema found herself again rooting for the defense, but somewhere along the line she couldn't help but notice the pensive gaze of Phoenix Wright.

Phoenix was sitting hunched over, his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on his knuckles. His expression held just a touch of disturbed grimness. Ema wondered what it was that he could see in this trial that she couldn't.

It was really like a complex game of chess. She had watched Phoenix and Edgeworth play once long ago and had been confused out of her brain.

Finally, it was time for the big accusation. A frantic Mrs. Dumonde took the witness stand, clutching it so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. Her breathing was erratic and shaken, and her voice certainly matched. "FINE! Say what you will about me!"

The room quieted down in a matter of seconds. As the silence began to invade, she placed her hands on her ears, shaking her head. "Say what you will…"

"Mrs. Dumonde, is there something you need to tell the court?" Klavier interrupted, no doubt to help lead her to a confession.

"Yes. It's true… _some of it_…" She turned to him. "Maybe I _am_ the 'crazy lady' that lives next door. Maybe I _am _the one who shot Detective Gumshoe because I _am_ hopelessly addicted to Pep… but I'm _not_ a killer."

Mrs. Dumonde was visibly shaking. She looked over at the defense and pointed a quivering finger at Mr. Gofree. "_That_ man is."

The courtroom erupted into murmurs and shouts. Amid the chatter, Ema caught Phoenix's soft voice.

"She's telling the truth," Phoenix commented quietly into his hands, just loud enough for Ema alone to hear.

"What? How do you know?" Ema whispered back.

Phoenix shrugged. "You learn to read people after a while… and it's clear that she isn't lying."

"But… then that means…" Panic suddenly struck Ema. If Mr. Gofree was guilty, did Kristoph know that? Did he know he was defending a murderer?

She wanted to scream "objection!" from where she sat in the stands. Truth be told, she half expected Phoenix to say something, but when she looked at him again, he was still sitting perfectly still, his calm eyes on the court proceedings below.

She looked quickly at Kristoph next, even though she could only see the back of his head, but his posture and demeanor were the same. Did Kristoph know?

Her eyes darted finally to Klavier, who was toying with his bangs. He seemed to be contemplating what to do with this testimony.

Before any of them could say anything, the least likely person of all interrupted.

The judge. He pounded his gavel on the desk until the room silenced.

"Mrs. Dumonde, you are willingly admitting to using the illegal substance Pep and to shooting an officer of the law," the judge said, staring sternly at her. "These are serious offenses."

"I… I know, but they're _not murder_… _I'm not a murderer…_" she repeated quieter than before.

"I see… Mr. Gavin, what do you suppose we should do?" the judge asked.

"I think…" Klavier began. "I believe…" Kristoph also began.

They both stopped, giving each other a barely concealed look of contempt.

"_Prosecutor_ Gavin," the judge clarified. "It is clear that a trial must be set at a later date for Mrs. Dumonde, but as for today's trial…"

Klavier shook his head. "There does not seem to be enough evidence to convict either Mrs. Dumonde or Mr. Gofree at this point."

"Then I see no reason to prolong judgment." The judge cast a pensive glare at Mrs. Dumonde and then at Mr. Gofree. "I declare the defendant, Not Guilty."

No confetti flew through the air. No cheers were heard ringing through the crowd. The defendant had been found "not guilty" but the only reaction seemed to be the disinterested shuffling of people out of the courtroom.

* * *

_Time: 12:25 AM_

_Location: La Beppi's Café_

_Mood: Perplexed_

"Ema, you've barely touched your chicken sandwich." Lana's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Her sister seemed to notice her solemn look and rest her kind eyes on her. "You're upset about what happened today in court, aren't you?"

Ema nodded. "If Mr. Gofree was really guilty… then… why was he found not guilty?"

Phoenix shrugged, "the court system isn't perfect."

"But you and Mr. Edgeworth!" Ema blurted out, noticing Phoenix's eyes widen just a bit at the mention of his friend and rival. "You always found the truth!"

Phoenix laughed quietly. "Edgeworth and me? You really think so?"

Ema knew he was just trying to cheer her up, but she still frowned. "It just doesn't seem right."

"Try not to let it bother you too much," Lana advised. "People like Mr. Gofree tend to get _caught_ a lot, for various reasons. If he really is guilty, then he will probably be found guilty someday."

"If you say so…" Ema continued to sulk, but she had to believe her sister. Lana was _always_ right. Except that one time.

Ema sat back, listening to them talk about different brands of "spirits," trying to figure out if they were talking about ghosts or wine.

"I prefer Californian spirits myself, they have such a nice body to them," Phoenix said.

"Yet they lack the history of European spirits," Lana argued back.

Nope. Ema still couldn't tell.

The door opened, jingling and attracting Ema's attention. A lanky man wearing a cheesy orange suit jacket and faded blue jeans walked their way. His spiky dirty blonde hair framed what she could only call a pathetic look on his face. He snuck around their table and threw his arms around Phoenix's back.

"Nick! It's _horrible!_ I've got to tell you about Isabella…" he began whining. Ema wondered what his relation to Phoenix could be. "We've been dating for _five whole days_ and we were doing so _well_ but now she just doesn't _call me_ or _answer the door_ when I visit or…"

Phoenix sighed, as if this was nothing unusual. Gently, he picked the man's arms off him, and guided him to a chair at their table. The guy looked as if he were ready to burst into tears. Phoenix threw him a lopsided grin. "Larry, you've never been good for my health."

Suddenly, Larry's expression changed as he eyed the bottle of grape juice in Phoenix's hand. "It seems you're not so good for your own health either these days. _Grape juice_ _again_?"

Phoenix chuckled. "What can I say? I love my _grape juice_."

Ema wondered for a brief half a moment if Phoenix's "grape juice" could possibly be… something else? He had been carrying around the bottle of "grape juice" everywhere lately. If it really was what she thought it was… could Phoenix really be that depressed?

No. She shook the thought away. Surely not Phoenix.

"Ema, Lana, this is Larry. We've known each other since grade-school," Phoenix explained, indicating towards him. He eyed Larry suspiciously and frowned. "And Larry, no. Before you even start thinking about it."

"Aww but…" Larry whined.

"No." Phoenix admonished, pointing a finger at him. "So, tell me about Isabella."

While Larry plunged into a long and horrible story, Lana turned to Ema. "And why don't _you_ tell me about Kristoph Gavin."

Ema's eyes widened. How did she know?

"If you're wondering how I know, it's because I'm your older sister. It's my job to know these things," Lana answered her unspoken question, then leaned in a little closer. "So, do tell."

"We've… well… I just started seeing him yesterday, but he seems pretty nice…" Ema said, glancing quickly at Phoenix and Larry, who seemed to be lost in their conversation about Isabella.

Lana nodded encouragingly. "Go on."

"He's nice… he's smart… he's gentlemanly…" Ema listed, feeling a happy grin grow wider on her face as she said each word. "…and I think I…"

Lana held up an index finger, halting Ema's words. She regarded her with kind eyes and a soft smile. "Ema dear, it's too soon to say something like that, but it sounds like you truly do like him."

"Oh I do!" She agreed quickly.

"I know. But do me a favor if you would…" Lana leaned in even closer. "If anything, and I mean _anything_ goes wrong you let me be the first one to know. I can't put my finger on it, but there's _something_ about him…"

"Lana, please stop. You're scaring me," Ema said quickly, not really because she was scared, but because she didn't want to hear anymore.

And maybe she _was_ a little scared.

"Ok, just promise me you'll call…"

"…if anything goes wrong. Got it." Ema responded quickly.

"Good," Lana affirmed. Then her eyes flicked over to Phoenix, who looked like he had just about had enough of Larry's stories. "Phoenix, I do think lunch break is about over, don't you agree?"

"Well what do you know, it is!" Phoenix chuckled, glancing nervously at his cell phone. Ema assumed he didn't have a watch. "Larry, it's been great. We should catch up later. Gotta go!"

Phoenix rose from his seat, signaling for the rest of them to get up too. They paid at the front counter and walked into the summery midday air outside. "Ema, you take care of yourself, ok?"

Ema nodded. "I will!"

"Yes, and don't forget what we talked about," Lana added.

"I won't!" Ema responded, feeling like she was talking to her parents.

"And maybe you want to go on a date with me?" Larry asked.

Phoenix kicked Larry onto the ground. "Ignore him."

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

FINALLY done with that court case! ...or are we?

For those of you helpless romantics out there, never fear. There will be more f*ed up romantic drama next chapter.

Thank you for being patient and waiting the extra week. Please send me love/hate! :)


	10. Day 4: Bunnies in the Park

_Time: 4:30 PM_

_Location: Back at the police station_

_Mood: Unsettled_

Ema knew she should be happy. She had successfully finished her first court case! At least, that is what Gumshoe had said over the phone to encourage her.

She couldn't help but feel that something was amiss. She sat at her desk, leaning her head into one hand and filling out paperwork with the other. If only something could just make all of this mess go away.

"Is fräulein Skye angry again?"

She didn't have to turn around, she knew who it was. "Klavier, he really was guilty, wasn't he?"

Ema glanced over in his direction and noted that his clear blue eyes held just a touch of perplexity. Before he could respond, she continued to drivel on. "And it was partially _my_ fault that Mr. Gofree got away free of charge. We knew Mrs. Dumonde was _sort of_ guilty, but she didn't kill those men."

Klavier waited a moment before responding, "would fräulein Skye like to explain why she thinks this?"

Why was Klavier asking _her_ of all people? "My testimony. My mirror. They both pointed to her instead, and we lacked sufficient proof to indicate Mr. Gofree any longer."

"Yes, but nowhere in your testimony did you ever say Mr. Gofree, or Mrs. Dumonde, was guilty," Klavier commented. "My question still stands."

"Phoenix Wright," she suddenly murmured the thought. "He seemed to know Mrs. Dumonde was telling the truth at the end."

"Phoenix Wright," Klavier echoed. Ema could tell that a complicated thought process was going on inside the blonde prosecutor's mind, but he didn't seem to feel like voicing it. "Ja, I could see that."

"That's all you have to say?" she asked, a little upset that he was withholding something from her.

"Here? Ja. But really? Nein," Klavier indicated towards the door. "Fräulein Skye, would you walk with me for a few minutes?"

* * *

_Time: 5:00 PM_

_Location: People park_

_Mood: Mellow_

The temperate air made their walk through the local park pleasant. Klavier hadn't said much on their way here, keeping her entertained with simple talk of recent television shows they shared in common.

When they finally arrived in the further regions of the park, surrounded by copses of shady trees and no other human beings, he turned to her, changing the topic. "Fräulein Skye, tell me about your job."

"My _job?_ Shouldn't you already know about that?" Ema asked, an eyebrow arched in challenge.

"Yes, but I want to hear what _you_ have to say."

"Ok…" She took a long breath, thinking of what she should say. "I'm a detective. I investigate crime scenes for a glimmerous fop who likes to drag me to places like restaurants and parks for no reason."

"Very true!" Klavier laughed. Though he continued to smile, his expression changed from his usual mirthful look to a more pensive gaze. "My job is to prosecute, and Kristoph's job is to defend. I find people guilty while he finds them innocent. We do our best, but… it's an imperfect system."

That was strange. Phoenix had said something similar just a few minutes ago. With the thought of the defense attorney on her mind, she asked, "I understand that, but what does any of this have to do with Phoenix Wright?"

"Phoenix Wright is able to see things that neither of us can," Klavier admitted. "It's probably why he had such an amazing record."

"_Had_…" Ema echoed, thinking more about how terrible it was that Phoenix was forced out of law than about his peculiar ability. "…such a waste. That's so unfair that he was framed! What sort of jerk prosecutor would do that to him anyway?"

Klavier blanched, glancing away.

Ema noticed immediately, recoiling back a step and placing her hand over her mouth. "Oh… oh no, you _didn't…_"

"I didn't frame him," Klavier said quickly, though he seemed to find it difficult to meet her gaze. "…but I _was_ that prosecutor."

"You glimmerous… ugh!" Feeling the frustrations of the day's verdict and this new revelation on top of her, she shoved Klavier into a large nearby bush. "How could you _do_ that to him?!"

"Eyaa!" Klavier toppled over backwards into the bush, his glimmerous boots being the only part of him that stuck out.

"I mean, really, how _could _you?" Ema turned away crossly, deciding that he deserved to find his own way out of there. "Mr. Wright has done so much good for the people in this world."

She heard the rustling of leaves behind her, and the occasional "ouch!" from Klavier but still didn't bother to turn around. "And, you've seen him, defending is all he can do! How could you take that away from him?"

"There's a nest of bunny rabbits in here," Klavier commented from behind her, egging her into spinning back around.

The sight was nearly heart-melting. Klavier sat on the park ground, a few stray leaves still stuck to his jacket and hair. Baby bunnies surrounded him, sniffing him curiously.

Ema tried to growl and pout but found that she couldn't stay mad. "So what, you're one with nature now?"

"Hardly, but aren't they something?" Klavier laughed, urging one bunny away from him gently with his index finger. "Nein, nein, I can't take you back with me."

Ema sighed. "Ok, so maybe if the bunnies don't hate you, you're not a _total_ jerk, but I'm still not forgiving you for that just yet."

He looked up at her, smiling as a bunny jumped onto his knee. "And I'm not asking you to. But I will ask you to understand one thing."

"And that is?" she asked, crouching down by him. The bunnies hopped away from her. She frowned.

"In the court of law, sometimes we _are_ and _aren't_ who we really are," he riddled, urging the bunny away with a finger again.

"What are you trying to say?" she held a hand to her head, exasperated. "Just spit it out."

When his light blue eyes gazed at her, she knew he was being completely sincere.

"You are far too trusting of my brother, fräulein Skye."

Ema blinked, as realization began to set into her brain. "Is that…. is _that_ what this is all about?" She stood up, scaring the bunnies away.

"I know it's not easy to…" he began.

"You're jealous!" she accused, pointing a finger at him.

His eyes widened to comical proportions and he leapt to his feet too. "What?! I never…"

"You think your brother is better than you in the court of law, and you're jealous of him!" Ema folded her arms, smirking and shaking her head.

Klavier hesitated for just a moment. It seemed like her accusation caught him off guard. Finally, he folded his arms and glanced aside too. "The job of a prosecutor and defense attorney are completely different. I thought we already went over this."

"But _he won_ today. You men are too easy to read," Ema pointed out. Then, realizing that perhaps she was being a bit harsh on him, (even if he _had_ sunk Phoenix's career,) she sympathized slightly. "But I guess he's older than you, and someday you _might_ be as good as him."

Klavier sighed, looking like he was trying to find the right thing to say. Finally, he settled on, "Don't say I didn't try to warn you."

What was that supposed to mean? "Why are you _still_ such a freak?"

Klavier blinked at her, and Ema found herself wondering again if she had voiced the wrong inner monologue. It wouldn't be the first time.

Eventually, he broke the silence with his typical Mr. Charming smile. "Fräulein Skye, I think the work day is about over. Maybe you should get some rest and think about things, ja?"

"Couldn't agree with you more, for once," she said, thinking of how nice it would be to sleep as she followed him out of the park.

Unfortunately, good and bad news were waiting for her when she reached the police department again.

The good news: Kristoph was waiting to take her out to dinner.

The bad news: they were going to the Borscht Bowl Club again.

Ema gazed skeptically at her new boyfriend in the car. "Kristoph, I like seeing Mr. Wright too, but we _just ate there yesterday_. Shouldn't we try something different tonight?"

It took him a moment to respond, as if he hadn't anticipated her question, but when he did it was with the same kind smile as usual. "Certainly, mein fräulein, I would be delighted to take you to other fabulous restaurants."

For a moment, she wondered if he was sincere or not. But when he turned to her with a sweet smile and his twinkling light blue eyes, she knew everything was all right. "How does French sound to you?"

* * *

_Time: 5:56 PM_

_Location: Le Petite Fleur _

_Mood: Confused_

Like the first restaurant Kristoph had taken her to, Le Petite Fleur was ornately and finely decorated. Stained glass windows displayed various types of flowers in the arched entrance hall.

The interior of the restaurant was no less elegant. On each table, a fresh white linen tablecloth rested, adorned with a small vase of exotic looking flowers. Dark stained wooden chairs also bore flower engravings. Even the utensils were shaped like rosebuds at the ends of the handles.

Ema supposed the theme was flowers.

Yet another language she didn't know greeted Ema on the menu. She decided to just pick something and order.

Kristoph noticed her pointing at the dish she was about to order and commented subtly, "I see you enjoy force-fed duck's liver."

"Foie Gras? Isn't that just some type of salad?" she asked dubiously.

"Definitely duck's liver," Kristoph affirmed, then pointed to another dish on the menu. "Might I suggest the Quiche Lorraine? It is relatively mild and contains absolutely no internal organs."

"How comforting," Ema mused, but decided to herself that she was probably better off taking Kristoph's suggestion when she ordered.

After their waiter left, she found her mind wandering back to her conversation with Klavier earlier. Just what had he meant? Was she really far too trusting, or was he just jealous?

She looked at Kristoph, his fine blonde hair swept neatly across his forehead, the longer hair twisted in that familiar way on his left side. To her, he was kind, polite, and charming. Was there really a reason Phoenix, Klavier, and Lana would tell her to be cautious of him?

Perhaps they were just worried about her. Phoenix and Lana were, anyway. They were as close to her parents as she had ever known. They didn't want to see her go through the heartache of having a relationship and possibly breaking up.

Ema smiled. That was it. They were just concerned for her, but she would show them that there was no reason to be concerned. Everything would be fine with Kristoph. They were already off to a great start.

Her gaze did not go unnoticed. Kristoph peered back with a smile, touching one of the flowers on the table idly, "A flower for your thoughts?"

She shook her head, "Not much, just that I really am happy."

And she meant it. Kristoph was excellent company through dinner and all the way back to… his condo?

When he pulled into the familiar parking spot, Ema began to grow suspicious again. "It's getting pretty late, shouldn't I be headed home?"

"There's something I want to show you first," Kristoph reassured her, leading back up to his place.

Ema felt anxious, wondering just what it could be. She knew that there was nothing to be concerned about, but still her nerves were on edge as he opened the door to his place.

Ema gasped, almost forgetting to pull off her shoes before she ran through his condominium.

All of her stuff was here. Everything from her pillow down to the tiny black book she kept the account of her days in. Most of her things were in a large room down one of the hallways. The room was bigger than her old apartment and easily held all of her belongings.

She found a few items like her shower accessories in one of the bathrooms already. Even her stacks of instant ramen were housed in one of Kristoph's kitchen cabinets.

Finally, she found Kristoph standing in the living room, studying a newspaper curiously with a pen in hand. "You moved all of my things here?"

"Yes," he agreed, swiveling around and placing the pen on a nearby table.

"I'm really not sure how I feel about that," she admitted. "Just how did you find the time to do this? And _why_?"

"I found the time this afternoon," Kristoph explained, picking up the pen again and clicking it thoughtfully. "And as for why… well, let's say that your landlord was _relocating_ your possessions into the hallway when I arrived anyway."

Ema gulped. It _had_ been a long time since she had paid rent…

She didn't realize it had been _that_ long. "I guess I should say 'thank you' then," she murmured.

"There are no thanks necessary," Kristoph waved his hand and the comment away. "I would have asked for you to join me tonight anyway."

As if to prove his sincerity, he walked to his refrigerator, carefully taking out a plate of tiny strawberry tortes. He set them on the counter in front of her, offering them with a stack of napkins. "Strawberry torte?"

Ema smiled, picking up a torte and taking a bite. Of course, it was delicious. "You'd better watch out; I could get used to this."

* * *

_Time: 10:23 PM_

_Location: My room… in **Kristoph's** condo_

_Mood: Unexpected happiness_

_Five days ago I didn't know who Kristoph Gavin was. Now, I'm living with him._

Ema sat on her new bed (Kristoph had politely kept her second-hand futon in a corner of the room, but why sleep on it when there was a beautiful four poster bed sitting right here?) She pondered what to write next.

_Kristoph is like a dream come true. I feel like a Disney princess. Gone is my cheesy second rate apartment. Gone are the days of eating ramen alone at night._

_He has been so wonderful to me. I can't imagine how I could ever be as good to him._

_Kristoph Gavin, I adore you, and your charming romanticism, and your fantastic cooking, and your soulful blue eyes that I could get lost in…_

Ema had to stop herself. "Ugh, I sound like a _romance novelist_…" But she couldn't help the happy smile that touched her lips.

_Things are finally, **finally**, going the right way. I hope this happiness never ends._

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

This chapter was also a little late. Sorry about that.

I hope that this fic continues to be worth the wait! Please leave love/hate. =)


	11. Day 62: Two Month Anniversary

_Time: 6:30 PM_

_Location: Home_

_Weight: 120 lbs_

_Mood: Content_

_Tonight is our two month anniversary. I know that a two month anniversary is hardly a thing to celebrate, but when you've never had a relationship last this long, like me, it's a big deal!_

_I bought a new cocktail dress from downtown and matching shoes. I've **never** cared about my outfits so much before. Or painting my nails. I'm starting to think Kristoph is rubbing off on me a little._

_Living with him isn't weird at all anymore. Thinking back about it, that first week was a little strange, but like I told him, I could certainly get used to living in his fancy condo with him cooking delish dishes._

_His cooking truly is fantastic. It's often better than the restaurants we go to. I almost wonder if in another time, or another life, he was a chef._

_Kristoph is a little late tonight. I know I shouldn't worry, but I do whenever this happens. When he comes in late it's almost as if he's a different person sometimes…_

Ema heard the door to the condo open and quickly put her journal away. She walked into the front room and found Kristoph in the entryway, just finishing slipping his shoes off.

"Hey Kris, how was your day?" she asked with a grin. Lightly, she leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

He smiled back, putting down his briefcase so that he could hug her in return. "Far better now that you're here, mein fräulein."

Never one to miss a beat, he murmured, "you look especially beautiful tonight."

"Thank you," she murmured, silently extremely happy that he had noticed her new clothes.

Kristoph's arms were warm and welcoming, just like they always were. Ema could sense though, as she sometimes did when he came home late, that something was bothering him greatly.

"There's something's troubling you again, isn't there?" she nudged gently.

"Mm, it's this case. The defendant is being difficult, as usual," Kristoph muttered, making his way to the kitchen.

"It's more than the case, I can tell," Ema insisted.

Kristoph pulled open the refrigerator door, just a tad more forcefully than usual. "No, the case is the only thing on my mind."

Ema knew he was agitated. She placed her hands on his shoulders, rubbing for just a moment before holding out a helping hand to him. "Ok, we'll play it your way. Just don't overwork yourself. I'm here if you ever want to talk."

He handed her a plate of lasagna rolls that he had prepared earlier that day. "You'll be the first to know if anything happens, mein fräulein." Kristoph leaned down and lightly kissed her lips, then murmured, "Put them in the oven at 360."

She did as instructed and waited at the kitchen bar, watching Kristoph as he moved around gracefully through the kitchen. Yes, there was definitely the slightest bit of agitation in everything he did. Everything from preparing their side dish of mixed vegetables to the way he opened he cabinets and drawers seemed a little… forced.

Sighing, Ema retired to reading the local paper. A silly smirk touched her lips when she noticed that Kristoph had underlined things again. It was such a silly habit of his, but she supposed that if he could put up with her constant scientific tests, she could bear with his underlining.

Another article by Spark Brushell bore his faint pencil marks. He really seemed to like that goofy journalist's work.

Ema also noted that Kristoph must have a soft spot for children and children's books. The painter and author Drew Misham also received faint pencil markings occasionally. She was faintly surprised when she turned to the Arts and Entertainment section, noticing that Drew Misham had come out with another award winning children's book.

More importantly, Kristoph hadn't circled this one.

"So, Drew Misham's new book didn't make your favorites list, did it?" She chided him with a smile.

Kristoph froze, "What?"

Ema was slightly taken aback, but she answered him, "you know, that illustrator you seem to like so much. Drew Misham. You're always circling his work."

Kristoph threw the bowl of vegetables haphazardly onto the kitchen counter, ignoring the bowl as it rolled off the table, the contents spilling onto the counter and floor. His frantic dash was a little startling, and Ema nearly jumped when he tore the paper from her hands. "Where?! Where is it?!"

"It's… it's right there… it's an advertisement for his new book 'Foggie and the land of the Toads.'" She explained, sensing that she should back away.

The look in Kristoph's eyes was like none she had seen before. There was a certain crazed quality to the usually calm blue hue. His lips twitched ever so subtly and he murmured, "Drew Misham…"

Kristoph tipped his head back, pressing his glasses back up with his right hand. When the light glinted off the glass panes, it was then that she thought she saw it.

A demon, on his right hand.

It could have been her imagination. In fact, moments later, when he had finished adjusting his glasses and was blinking back at her with apologetic eyes, she was certain that it was entirely in her head.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that, mein fräulein. I didn't mean to frighten you," Kristoph explained gently, stepping closer to Ema. "Drew Misham's work… fascinates me. You could say I have a certain fondness for his art."

Ema glanced at the simplistic sample pictures on the advertisement, and then at the grandiose impressionistic paintings garnishing Kristoph's condo. If she squinted at them hard enough, she could just _maybe _see how they _might_ be similar. "I see," she responded curtly.

Kristoph finished closing the gap between them, pulling her into a loose embrace. "I can tell that you don't believe me completely… perhaps you'd like to see my collection?"

"Collection?" She asked, taken aback. "You collect _children's books_?"

He smiled, guiding her into another room and over to a bookshelf that she had previously thought was full of boring paralegal books. "They bring back memories of when I would read to Klavier."

"You read to your little brother?" Ema beamed at him. "First nail polish, and now reading to children. You really _are_ on your way to being a mother!"

While Kristoph grimaced and accidentally slipped the word "kinder" into his next sentence, Ema was reminded of Klavier. When she talked about him with Kristoph, Klavier always seemed like an immature little brother. He blundered and made simple little brother mistakes.

In person, Klavier was, for all practical purposes, the same man she had met on the street the first time she literally "ran into him." He was ever the glimmerous fop, but something about him seemed different now. When he looked at her… when he talked to her…

"What is fraulien Skye thinking?" Kristoph inquired tracing his index finger along her temple and back through her hair.

"Klavier is lucky to have you as an older brother," she altered her thoughts quickly, smiling back at him.

He chuckled, "I'm sure Klavier wouldn't agree."

"Why not?" Ema asked, taking one of the books off the shelf. "I always loved it when Lana read to me."

She never would have expected it, but they spent the next couple hours pulling out children's books and talking about childhood memories. Anyway, _Ema_ discussed her childhood at length.

Even though Kristoph said quite a bit, she felt as though she hadn't learned much about his childhood at all after that time. He had a way of doing that.

It wasn't until a fragrantly burnt aroma filled the air that Kristoph quickly sprung to his feet. "The lasagna rolls…"

They both ran into the kitchen, but it seemed they were too late. A cloud of dark smoke filled the air when Kristoph pulled open the oven. Black crisply burnt cheese covered the similarly charred rolls. "You didn't set the kitchen timer, did you?"

"You never told me to," she said hastily, folding her arms across her chest. She wasn't going to take responsibility for this one.

Kristoph sighed, scooping the contents of the pan into the trash can. "I don't think we should eat that for dinner."

"Are we eating out again?" Ema asked, flicked her eyes over to his.

"It looks that way," he admitted, placing the pan into the sink. He wafted the smoke away, crossing back to her side of the kitchen. "What do you say we visit Phoenix?"

* * *

_Time: 8:50 PM_

_Location: The Borscht Bowl Club_

_Mood: Slightly annoyed_

Though Ema often preferred Kristoph's fantastic cooking, dining at restaurants really didn't bother her. At least three times a week, it seemed like they would head to a classy restaurant.

Or the Borscht Bowl Club.

By now, Ema had become accustomed to the various unappealing dishes the restaurant served. She had also become inured to Phoenix's horrendous piano playing while they dined.

After their first encounter at the Borscht Bowl Club, Phoenix hadn't said anything mysterious involving Kristoph anymore. She wondered what he had meant, and she even attempted to ask him a couple of times when Kristoph went to the bathroom.

Never again did he give her a clear answer. Ema had the feeling that she had become involved with something far over her head. She could never say what it was, but occasionally she would get that feeling too.

Sometimes when she sat on the train for work or stood alone by the window at their condo, waiting for Kristoph to come home, she would get that nagging feeling that all was not as well with her world as she thought. Even when they had dinner with Phoenix she would get that feeling.

Like usual, she ignored it.

"I serve you borscht, da!" Couldn't this restaurant get _normal_ waiters? The disaffected and apathetic girl from before had been replaced with a timid blonde girl who dressed as if she really were outside in the frigid Russian winter.

Ema wasn't about to complain, though. This girl had already enthusiastically showed them to a table and brought them water, a bread basket, and a lit candle for their table. All within a minute of their arriving at the restaurant.

While the girl scurried off with their orders, Ema focused on Phoenix's haphazard piano playing. Deciding that it was, as usual, quite appalling, she turned to Kristoph instead. "Is it just me, or is the turnover around here unusually high?"

"The waitresses you mean?" Kristoph took a sip of his seltzer water. "They usually only last a few weeks. This is the first time I have seen this new girl."

"Olga started yesterday, but she's quite enthused," Phoenix commented, turning around in his seat. "I think she's already memorized the entire menu. It's quite impressive."

Ema recalled that the menu had grown since her first visit. Now, they actually offered more than hot or cold borscht. Some of their new dishes weren't entirely unappetizing either!

"You've finished your song? I couldn't tell," Kristoph chuckled.

"Thanks Kristoph," Phoenix responded dryly. "You are ever my critic."

"Have you ever thought of taking piano lessons? You could actually get good that way," Ema suggested.

"Someday perhaps," he conceded. "But for now I'm afraid you'll have to deal with my _unique_ interpretations."

"Anything for you, Mr. Wright," she replied with a smile.

"So I hear that today is a very special day for you two," Phoenix ventured.

"Oh, yes! It's our two month anniversary," Ema responded, feeling just a bit embarrassed to be celebrating such a small amount of time.

As if he had read her mind, Phoenix said, "Well hey, you've got to start somewhere, right?"

He was right. During and after dinner, the thought ran through her mind. _Start_ somewhere… did that mean that she would _stay_ with Kristoph? There was no way to tell, and Phoenix (who had already finished at least half a bottle of his "grape juice") certainly didn't seem like he was going to help her answer that question.

* * *

_Time: 10:35 PM_

_Location: Back at the condo_

_Mood: Thoughtful_

_When I met Kristoph Gavin I thought he was the most mysterious and charming man in the world. He was right up there with my childhood idol, Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth._

_While that hasn't changed, I can't help but wonder if this is really how it is meant to be. How can a girl like me be so lucky on the first try? My first real boyfriend is a successful and gentlemanly defense attorney. He cooks better than Martha Stewart, and he owns a classy condo in the high-scale end of LA. _

_When I think about the last two months, the phrase "time of my life" comes to mind. It has truly been fantastic, but…_

Ema paused, not really sure how to complete that sentence. "But sometimes he's a little crazy?" "But he has a strange unexplainable anger every other night or so?"

None of the options seemed suitable, true though they were. In the end, she left that ending blank.

_This current case has been a pain in the butt too. Neither Klavier nor I can figure out why a murderer would leave a party cup at the scene with fingerprints and lipstick… especially when the suspect is a man! The fingerprints match the suspects though, but the lip marks? Maybe that's a test we should run tomorrow._

Ema continued to vent, as she often did, in the next few paragraphs, detailing her court case for a page or so. When she finished, she tossed the book onto her nightstand and flopped down in her bed.

"Who _are_ you, Kristoph Gavin?" she murmured into her pillow. "… and what are you hiding from me?"

* * *

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

The plot thickens. If you've played Apollo Justice (and I really hope you have if you're still reading by this point!) then you know exactly where it is going.

Please leave any questions/comments/concerns! And love. Lots of love. =)


	12. Day 63: Idol vs Reality

_Time: 6:00 AM_

_Location: The Police Station_

_Mood: Slightly Grumpy_

Ema sat at her desk, snackoos in one hand, coffee in the other. While she sipped the coffee (that really wasn't working) and toyed with the crispy snack thoughtfully, she attempted to wrap her brain around the current situation.

After his gunshot wound, Gumshoe had taken a long leave of absence. While he had returned just a week ago, he had been confined to simple paperwork within the police station.

Ema Skye was now the new "detective on the scene." Anytime there was trouble on the streets. Anytime someone decided to commit arson or murder at 3 AM, it was Ema's job to be there. And indeed, both had happened just last week.

And now, the paperwork for all of those crimes sat in front of her. Stacks and stacks of paperwork.

"Why is LA such a shit-hole?!" she cried in frustration, letting her head fall to the desk.

"Fräulein Skye ist wütend? And it's only 6 AM!"

That voice. That _German_ voice.

Ema spun around in her swivel chair, her hand throwing with practiced precision.

Snackooed in the forehead.

Klavier shook his head, catching the snackoo as it fell. "I really don't see why you don't carry a gun. Your aim is perfect!"

"Because guns are dangerous, and I'm not ready to have one yet, ok?" Ema growled, deciding that it was far too early in the morning to have to deal with this glimmerous fop.

While Klavier simply shrugged and chewed the snackoo she had thrown at him, Ema's mind drifted back to the past couple months. Things really hadn't changed much as far as Klavier was concerned.

Klavier was still a glimmer-boy with squealing fangirls and an ego that matched his fan-base. She worked with him every day searching crime-scenes, developing hypotheses for what may have happened at them, and testifying for him in court.

And yet, it seemed like something was missing. As she spent more time with him, it became even more glaringly obvious. Sure, there were times when Klavier was exactly like when she first met him. Then, there were far many other times when he would seem a bit subdued. Almost… sad.

Could the glimmer-boy be lonely? She stared at him but didn't stop him as he reached for another snackoo. Klavier didn't seem to be living with anyone, and honestly she didn't see how he would ever maintain a relationship with anyone. He lived and breathed his work. Any "extra" time he may have had was spent at Gavinners practice or playing in concerts.

She may have felt a little sorry for him, but as his hand reached for her snackoo bag again, she smacked it sharply. "That's enough, glimmer-boy. I'm cutting you off there before you eat my whole bag," she grumbled. Before he could protest, she asked, "why are you here anyway?"

"You are always too kind, fräulein Skye!" he smirked, leaning back against her desk. "I need to take you somewhere."

"Another crime scene?" she muttered, chugging some of her coffee to mentally prepare herself.

"No, breakfast!" he said, flashing her his Mr. Charming smile.

She almost spat her coffee on him. "What? But…"

"Yes, I'm hungry. Let's eat," he decided, pulling her up from her chair.

They were almost through the door before Gumshoe came bounding up to them. "Ema! You're not going to believe this! It's _him! He's back_…" he began in a very excited manner, his words tripping one over the other.

And yet, Klavier didn't seem to notice or care about the other detective. He simply continued to pull her through the door.

"Gumshoe, later ok?" she called after him, just before the door shut. Whatever it was the detective had to say, she was sure it could wait until after breakfast.

As much as she would have liked to say this never happened, it happened quite frequently. At least twice a week, usually more, Klavier would decide that they should have breakfast together. Ema didn't mind the free food, but she could never seem to shake that sense of astonishment every time it happened.

And she never got used to his deathcycle.

"_Klavier!_ I swear, if you take a turn at _anything_ faster than 30 miles per hour _again_ I'll…" she began her angry tirade but quickly stopped when she saw where they were. "What… why are we here?"

They were standing in front of the prosecutor's office building. Though she was familiar with the stuffy building, but she couldn't say she ever remembered a restaurant or café being located within its walls.

"I need to check something before we go," Klavier offered as his only explanation, leading her inside the building. "Wait here, I'll only be a couple of minutes."

Confused and still a bit foggy from the morning, Ema simply stood where she was, staring at the boring artwork that hung on the plain white walls as she waited for Klavier's return.

Now that she wasn't fearing for her life, she wondered vaguely what Gumshoe had been so excited about. Though he was strangely enthused about the weirdest things, there was only one thing she could think of that would excite him _that _much…

Her eyes widened slightly. "_He's _back…" she murmured to herself. Could it be?

"…Tuesday? You couldn't have picked a more inconvenient day if you tried."

The voice easily drew her attention away from the uninspiring walls. She _knew_ that voice!

"_No_, of course it has nothing to do with the premier of the new Steel Samurai mini-series that evening."

Her heartbeat picked up a notch. Could it really be who she thought it was? The person Gumshoe absolutely _obsessed_ over?

"Unlike you, I actually have real work to do."

Definitely. It was _definitely_ him. Ema's eyes were fixed on the hallway the voice was coming from.

"Wright, I refuse to talk about your silly plans right now over the phone. You should have been here at the appointed time if you cared. Don't bother me later." The snap of a cell phone being closed echoed through the hallway and into the lobby followed by brisk footsteps. Finally, he came into view…

Miles Edgeworth.

Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, her childhood _idol!!!_ It had been years since she last saw him, but he still looked roughly the same. His magenta-plum frilly jacket (that she had heard many refer to as pink) was tailored _slightly_ differently than before, but his outfit still included the classic cravat and usual décor. His hair had become just a shade darker, but otherwise it looked the same. His features were a touch more weathered than before, but she had to expect that since he had been in what she assumed was a highly stressful position for years.

He noticed her immediately. "Ema Skye?" As he strode towards her, she quickly walked to meet him half-way in the lobby.

"Y-yes! That's me!" She felt like hugging him, as she had done with Phoenix when she met him again two months earlier, but a small voice inside her told her that probably wasn't a good idea with Edgeworth. Instead, she settled for sticking out her hand. "It's good to see you again, Mr. Edgeworth!"

"Likewise," he said, politely taking and shaking her hand. After the Gavin brothers, she was almost surprised that he didn't kiss it afterwards. "What brings you here?"

She could ask him the same question! "Klavier Gavin, technically."

Edgeworth raised an eyebrow, but didn't question. "Oh, I see."

"No!" Ema quickly blurted out, "It's not like that at all! It's… I'm a detective now, you see, and he's…"

"Right here," Klavier said, drawing their attention to where he stood with his arms folded crossly at the bottom of the stairs. "And will have to stay here since our witness can't seem to keep his appointments."

Edgeworth smirked, "it wouldn't happen to be Phoenix Wright, would it?"

Klavier grinned, "Sadly, it can't be mein bruder's best friend." He turned to Ema, "Fräulein Skye, I apologize, it looks like we can't have breakfast."

"Sure, let a lady down. I see how it is," she sighed wistfully.

She hadn't expected Klavier's crestfallen expression. He opened his mouth, but instead of a witty retort, all he had was, "Ema…"

Suddenly, Edgeworth's voice broke the extremely awkward moment. "Ms. Skye, if you are hungry, I could take you to breakfast."

What? Wait, _what???_ She turned to Klavier and could see that he was just as bewildered as she was. "B-but," she stammered, "I thought you told Phoenix you were really busy right now."

"Not particularly, I just don't want to be bothered with Wright," he answered, allowing his subtle smirk to slowly etch into the side of his face. "Well, Miss Skye?"

"S-sure! Let's go!"

"Very well," Edgeworth, as usual, kept his responses to a minimum and began walking to the door.

Ema turned to face her boss, "Bye Klavier!"

"Auf wiedersehen, fräulein Skye," he murmured back in response.

She didn't have time right now, but someday, she would have to get him back for swearing at her in that language.

* * *

_Time: 7:00 AM_

_Location: Some small café_

_Mental state: Fangirl-squee!_

Breakfast. With. Edgeworth.

EDGEWORTH!

She wasn't fully aware of herself until they were already sitting at a booth in a cozy corner café. She wasn't even sure what the name of the restaurant was… but did it really matter? Edgeworth's taste in cafes must be nothing short of spectacular, and even if it wasn't, she really could care less about the food.

"Wright told me you were back in town," Edgeworth ventured, politely looking up from his menu as he spoke to her.

"Yes. Since Gumshoe's accident, I'm the head detective on the scene for this branch of the LAPD," Ema responded while debating between waffles or a breakfast cereal.

"I had heard there was an incident, but I never inquired about the details," he said, folding his menu and sliding it to the side.

"Some crazy lady from my first court case shot him," she explained. When she saw Edgeworth slide away his menu, she quickly decided on blueberry waffles and slid hers aside too. "He's still working at the station, but he only does paperwork now."

"It's a shame, he was never very good at that either," despite Edgeworth's harsh words, Ema noticed that his eyes were cast down, a small wince on his lips. For a moment she was startled.

She had never noticed this side of Edgeworth before. Such a caring… _human_… side.

Discovering that he was the subject of her scrutiny, Edgeworth looked quickly back to her. "He will be back with his poor detective skills before we know it. If a gunshot wound couldn't keep Franziska out of the courtroom, it won't keep Gumshoe out of the line of duty for long."

Ema laughed feebly, "I hope not. I don't know how much more of this detective work I can take!"

"I'm certain you are doing a fine job, Ms. Skye," Edgeworth responded, then turned to face the waitress who had suddenly seemed to materialize out of nowhere. "I'll just have a cup of coffee."

What?! Coffee… that was it? When the waitress turned to Ema, she gulped, then said, "I'll just have a cup of coffee too."

Edgeworth arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure that's all you want?"

"Yeah… what else would I have?" Ema responded a bit defensively.

"What happened to those blueberry waffles?" He must have seen her baffled and bewildered expression. After a charming yet completely non-offensive grin, he said, "add an order of blueberry waffles to that."

After the waitress walked away, she opened her mouth to speak, found that no words came out, and closed it. She opened it again, and finally found a few words. "How did you…"

"You were eyeing them earlier, and you said you were hungry. I only assumed," Edgeworth shrugged.

"That's amazing," she murmured, truly impressed. Then she remembered that it was _Edgeworth_ she was talking to. Oh yeah.

He chuckled, mock-half-bowing. "I do what I can."

Ema was afraid that one of those awkward silences was going to follow that short conversation, but it seemed Edgeworth knew how to pick up the slack. Abruptly, his demeanor changed as he voiced what she could only assume was a concern. "Wright told me you are dating someone. Kristoph Gavin, correct?"

It was official. Edgeworth knew everything. Everything.

"Yes, why?" she asked, suddenly slightly suspicious. Was Edgeworth going to be mysteriously ominous about Kristoph too? "Is that bad?"

"In the past, I have had the opportunity to face Kristoph Gavin in court. He is a formidable opponent. As for dating him…" he paused, thanking the waitress as she delivered their coffee. He took a sip of the hot liquid then said, "Dating advice isn't really my specialty. I wouldn't necessarily say that dating him is _bad_… but you seem to think so."

Did she? It was disconcerting, and troublesome, and very very very confusing! "But… it's been two months, and I _love_ him and…"

"Ms. Skye, don't agonize yourself so much," Edgeworth's words drew her gaze back up from the table. She didn't realize she had been staring down. "Regardless of what happens, remember that you have many allies."

Lana. Phoenix. Even Klavier…

Ema smiled, "You're right. Even glimmer-boy's looking out for me."

"Glimmer-boy?" He asked, giving her a quizzical look.

"It's a long story," Ema smiled, waving the question aside with a wave of her hand.

With all of the sentimental talk, Ema was afraid that she had lost her appetite, but as soon as the blueberry waffles arrived, she found it return. Then she thought of a bigger problem.

"Mr. Edgeworth, are you sure you don't want anything?" Ema asked, pouting ever so slightly.

He sighed lightly, "if it will make you feel better, I'll order a crumpet."

When his crumpet arrived, Ema dug into her waffles, finding that Edgeworth (as she had suspected) did indeed have excellent taste in restaurants.

* * *

_Time: 2:25 AM_

_Location: the condo_

_Mood: Anxious_

_Breakfast with Edgeworth was as fantastic and fabulous as I could imagine. He's really a very sweet and caring guy, underneath that cold and tortured outer-shell. I can see why Mr. Wright likes him._

_It was a very strange and sudden thing to observe. I guess I never noticed it when I was younger. Maybe I've become a better scientist after all!_

Ema set her book down on her lap, checking the clock in her room. 2:30. Never before had Kristoph been quite this late. She could only assume that he had chosen to have dinner with Phoenix at the Borscht Bowl Club again, but since when did he stay out until this late at night?

It was unusual and completely unlike Kristoph.

Ema sighed, trying to focus on her diary again.

_Edgeworth is so observant too. He even noticed that I was eyeing the blueberry waffles! It's incredible to be around someone who puts such perception to such good use._

That… made no sense. Ema grumbled with frustration, closing her book with the decision that she would write multiple pages about Edgeworth later.

It was barely audible, but the front door swung open.

Ema leapt to her feet, running to the front to find Kristoph taking off his shoes, eyeing them as meticulously as ever, perhaps even more, before he put them away. "Kristoph, you're back! I was so worried…" She held out her arms to hug him, but he turned quickly away.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, mein fräulein," he responded tersely, heading straight for his bathroom. "There was a bit of work I needed to finish up."

Hurt by his blatant rejection, she bit her bottom lip, following him nervously. "Is everything ok? You seem really tense."

"I'm fine!" he shouted back. Then, noticing her jump in surprise, he spoke again, in a quiet and gentle voice, "I'm fine. I'm sorry."

"Ok." She wanted to believe him. She really did, but something inside her told her that something was very, _very_ wrong. "It's ok."

Slowly, she backed away, closing the door as she left. Ema could hear him literally tearing the clothing off himself and the sound of the shower running shortly after.

She had admittedly never been brave enough to even try to step into the shower with him, and she had a feeling that now was definitely not the time to start.

Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

Ema backed away from the bathroom, feeling on edge. She fled quickly back to her room, her mind racing as she tried to think of what could possibly be the matter.

_Regardless of what happens, remember that you have many allies._ Edgeworth's words from earlier that day drifted back to her.

Phoenix. She should call Phoenix.

Ema dug in her purse, pulling her pink cell phone out from the never-ending bag. She pressed a few buttons, trying to remember his number, then gave up. Her phonebook would remember better than she would.

The phone rang once.

It rang once more.

It rang a third time.

Then…

"Heeeey. You've reached Phoenix Wright. Leave me a message."

Frustrated, she hung up before the beep. "Urgh! Why aren't you there Mr. Wright?!" she wailed.

Lana.

Frantically, she pressed the tiny numbers on her cell phone, noticing with dismay a low battery warning. She had this number memorized forwards and backwards.

The phone rang once.

It started to ring again but was picked up mid-ring. "Hi Ema, what is it?"

"Lana…" she murmured, feeling her voice clench just a bit.

Immediately, her sister's tone changed. "Ema, what's wrong? You can tell me."

"It's… it's Kristoph. There's something different about him tonight. _Really_ different." Ema said quietly back, listening to make sure the shower was still running.

"Ema, I can come pick you up in ten minutes," Lana said abruptly. "If you don't feel safe there…"

"No I… that might not be a good idea…" Ema murmured, not really sure why she was saying that.

The shower stopped running.

"Ema, don't be ridiculous, if…"

"I'll be ok. I have to go," Ema said quietly. "Sorry for calling you so late. Goodnight."

Why had she done that? She felt terrible for worrying her sister, and it was probably over nothing.

Why was she feeling this sense of dread? This sense of panic? Ema sat on her bed, not even wanting to reach for her diary. It felt like she couldn't move from where she sat, as if she were completely glued in place.

Ema didn't know how much time passed by, but when Kristoph entered her room, she couldn't help but jump. "K-Kris… you startled me." She blinked, finally noticing that he was still wearing his typical formal lawyer clothes. "Why are you wearing that?"

"Do you remember Apollo Justice, the boy who has been studying law with me?" Kristoph asked quietly. He leaned against the frame of her door with one arm, looking far more exhausted than he had looked since… well… ever.

"I never met him, but yes, you talk about him sometimes," Ema responded, wondering just where he was going with this line of questioning.

"Apollo has his first court case tomorrow. I need to prepare case files and bring them to him," Kristoph explained, finally crossing the distance between them.

When he held his hand out to her, Ema cautiously took it and allowed herself to be pulled into a loose hug. "My apologies, mein fräulein, I won't be spending the evening here."

"That's ok… I was planning on seeing my sister tonight anyway," Ema decided on the fly. As the moments passed by, the lie slowly sounded more and more appealing.

"I see," Kristoph said, pulling back away from her. He seemed to be thinking about something, Ema could tell, but like usual she never knew _what_ was going through his mind. He kissed her chastely on the cheek, then left. "Goodnight, mein fräulein."

Ema stood rooted in place. She heard Kristoph walking around the condo, quickly gathering things together, then heard him leave. Not even a minute later, her cell phone rang.

It was Lana. "Ema? Good, you're still there. I'm outside."

"Lana?" Ema asked excitedly, already rushing to throw on a jacket and grab her purse. "But I thought…"

"I know when my sister needs me," Lana responded warmly. "Come downstairs, Ema."

"Ok," She hung up the phone, grabbed a change of clothes, and ran to meet Lana outside.

She had never been happier to climb into the passenger side seat of a car. As she shut the door behind her, Lana turned to face her. "Are you ok? He didn't do anything to you, did he?"

"No, nothing at all," Ema quickly said, throwing her spare clothes into the back seat of the car. "He just seemed a little… different tonight."

"A little different?" she asked, starting the drive to her place.

"Well ok, a _lot_ different," Ema shook her head. "I don't know what it is, but he seemed almost scary tonight. I don't know… I'm sorry for making you come out here."

"Ema, I would gladly drive across the world for you, if it was possible. You know that," she said with a tiny smile. "I'm just glad that you're safe."

Ema was too. She had a strange feeling that tomorrow would be a very big day. Tomorrow, perhaps, she would discover why Kristoph was occasionally like this…

Tomorrow, she would know if all her fears were true.

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

And next week, you will too! (If you haven't played the game already...)

Send me love, send me hate, questions, comments, or concerns!


	13. Day 67: Disguises

_Time: ???_

_Location: ???_

_Mental state: buh???_

Ema rolled over on the bed, finding the sunlight in her eyes annoying.

Wait. Sunlight?

She gasped, sitting up quickly in bed to find herself in Lana's guest bedroom. The sunlight streamed in through the blue curtains. From what she could tell, the sun was already fairly high in the sky.

Translation: Ema was _very_ late to work.

Panicking, she jumped out of the bed, deciding she should at least wash before running to work.

She nearly collided with the closed door to the room. Stupid, stupid morning brain! She reached for the doorknob and found a little note taped to it. Curious, she picked up the note.

Lana's perfect cursive writing read,

_Relax. I already called your work and explained to them that you would be a few hours late today. There was an incident last night, but they got someone else to take the case. Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge. Call me later tonight, ok? _

_Love,_

_Lana_

Ema sighed a big sigh of relief. She took a few steps back and fell back onto the bed. She could really get used to having Lana take care of her like this! Not only did she not have to be the head detective at this crime scene, but she could go to work late!

She smiled at her good fortune until she remembered why she was at Lana's abode in the first place. Kristoph….

A cold pit formed in the bottom of her stomach. Something had seemed so wrong last night, and yet, it wasn't as if he had done anything specifically _wrong_. Sure, he had raised his voice once, but that certainly didn't merit this frightening and desolate feeling.

She decided that she must have a talk with Kristoph about it later. The prospect frightened her a bit, actually, but it was something that had to be done.

Breakfast first.

Ema stumbled into the hallway and out into Lana's kitchen, the tiles cold on her bare feet. She pulled open the fridge, leaning down to see what the shelves could offer her.

After a mild deliberation, she pulled out an English muffin (or as Edgeworth put it, a "crumpet") and tossed it into the toaster. Simultaneously, she heard her cell phone ring.

Knowing that she only had four rings, she dashed back into the other room, rolled over the bed, grabbed her cell phone, and flipped open the phone just in time.

"Fräulein Skye?" Came the voice from the other end.

Her brows furrowed. "Glimmer-boy? What do you want?"

"Will you be in at work today?"

"Eh, yes, I guess I can be there in an hour or so, why?"

"Good. It's important that I talk to you about something."

"Something?"

"Yes. I need to talk to you about it."

Ema paused for a second, then asked, "Why are you being so mysterious? That isn't like you."

"Ja, true. It's because—"

Ema's phone beeped ominously, then turned itself off.

For a moment, she stared at the phone in confusion, then she remembered that low battery warning from last night. "Oh well, he'll forgive my phone for dying on him," she muttered, walking lazily back to the kitchen to retrieve her muffin.

Then an odd thought dawned on her. Glimmer-boy had her cell phone number. Why did he have her cell phone number?

She chewed the bagel-bread-muffin-crumpet thoughtfully, deciding that there really could be worse things in the world.

Like the fact that she had to go into work today after all.

* * *

_Time: 12:50 PM_

_Location: The LAPD_

_Mood: Not quite as grumpy as usual_

Klavier was waiting for her when she arrived. Before she could even set foot in her little cubicle of space, he had already pulled her back out through the doors. "What are you _doing_ glimmer-boy?"

"You will see," he muttered, handing her a helmet for his deathcycle.

She tried to ignore the crazy speed and fast turns, as usual, but she found that they were impossible to disregard. Like usual, she disembarked from the deathcycle ready to yell at Klavier, but then she noticed where they were.

"Why are we at the detention center?" she asked, really not liking where this was going.

"Though I am not the prosecutor in this case, and you are not the head detective, the suspect is someone who has said he 'must speak with Ema Skye.'" Klavier recited for her, looking grim himself.

Ema felt anxiety building within her. How did the suspect know her? She hesitated for a moment by the visiting room, wondering if she should meet the person where people usually met them. Safely behind a glass wall with a policeman and security camera in the room with them.

Klavier urged her onwards. "Fräulein _detective_, there's no need for that. I'll show you which room he is in."

She followed him through the building, letting him do the talking whenever they encountered anyone. Finally, they stood before a solitary cell. "You've got ten minutes," the bored looking guard said as he unlocked the door.

Ema stepped inside, then gasped, "Mr. Wright?!"

Phoenix Wright was reclining back on the mostly barren white jail cot. When he caught sight of his visitors, he sat up quickly.

"You made it. Good. I was worried about you," Phoenix looked relieved. He turned to Klavier, nodding. "Thank you for bringing her here, Mr. Gavin."

"Mr. Wright, what are you doing in here?" Ema asked, feeling completely at a loss now that she wasn't the head detective.

"Don't look so glum, Ema. It wouldn't be the first time I've been accused of murder," Phoenix chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. Seeing that he wasn't helping, he offered, "Ema, the reason I asked for you to come here is quite important, actually."

Ema sat by him on the cot, trying not to expect the worst. "What is it?"

He turned to her, a look of complete seriousness in his clear blue eyes. "Ema, I want you to stay at your sister's house until my trial is over."

"What?" She blinked, completely confused. "How does that have anything to do with each other?"

"Just… trust me," he said, continuing to fix her with a somber look. "If anything I have done for you in the past means anything at all to you, please promise me that you'll stay at Lana's for the next three nights."

"O-ok," she agreed, still very perplexed. "You know I'd do anything for you Mr. Wright, but why do you want me to stay with Lana?"

Phoenix smiled then shrugged. "I would tell you if I could, but…" He trailed off, then settled for saying, "you'll see."

As Ema was about to ask another question, the guard tapped on the door. "There's another visitor for Mr. Wright."

"It seems our time is up," Klavier said, reminding Ema of his presence in the room. "We should be going, fräulein Skye."

When she turned to face him, there was something very different in Klavier's expression. The way his eyes were cast just slightly down, his hand fidgeting with his pocket, and a couple other minor details clued her in. "Klavier, is everything all right?"

He seemed to perk up immediately, returning to his usual foppish self. "Of course, fräulein Skye! But everything would be better if I could take you to breakfast today," he added with a wink.

"Why do I even bother?" Ema sighed to herself, then waved goodbye to Phoenix. "Good luck, Mr. Wright! I know you'll find a way out; you always do!"

"You've got that right," Phoenix smiled back, "Take care, Ema."

Though she was confused beyond belief at Phoenix's request and didn't think anything could faze her at the moment, Kristoph still surprised her in the entranceway to the visitation room.

"Kris!" she exclaimed, nearly running into him. "I thought you had to mentor that Apollo kid's first case today?"

"What a surprise, mein fraulein," Kristoph seemed a bit shocked to see them as well, but if it bothered him, he hid it well. He flipped his palms towards the ceiling and shook his head, "It seems his case has been pushed back three days. It shouldn't be an issue. At the very least, it will give him three more days to prepare."

"So… are you here to visit your client?" Ema asked.

"Why else? Although…" Kristoph turned to his brother, a small smirk on his lips. "What are _you_ doing here with mein fraulein, Klavier?"

"It's called 'work.' Don't tell me you're not familiar with the word," Klavier responded, seeming just a bit more agitated than usual.

"Where do you think you got your work-habit from?" he asked with a smile, then he turned back to Ema, "How was the visit with your sister?"

"Oh, Lana's just Lana, you know…" she laughed feebly, then realized there wasn't anything funny about what she said and stopped. She swallowed, preparing herself for what she had to say next.

Phoenix's request. She had to do it. She couldn't break her word to him. But… to stay somewhere that wasn't with Kristoph for three days? It felt like an eternity.

"Kris, I think I'm going to visit with my sister for a little bit longer," she said, forcing herself to meet his eyes. At his somewhat surprised look, she added, "I miss her."

"Of course," he said with a knowing nod. "Please enjoy your time and tell Lana I said 'hello.'"

"I will, thanks for understanding Kris," she smiled back, feeling just a bit awkward. Even though they usually hugged or kissed when they parted ways, something felt different about it this time. She didn't think she wanted to.

So, she didn't. With a simple wave, Ema walked away.

* * *

_Time: 2:00 PM_

_Location: The Corner-Street Cafe_

_Mood: Unsettled_

Klavier kept good to his word, as usual. After yet another horrifying bike ride, they sat in a booth at the Corner-Street Café. A large plate full of bite-sized triangle sandwiches sat in front of them, nearly untouched for the last ten minutes.

Finally, Ema couldn't take the silence any longer. "Klavier, why would Mr. Wright want me to stay at Lana's?" She had puzzled over the question herself since the request but could come up with no plausible solutions.

The prosecutor tensed for a moment, then looked at her. "To be honest, I'm not completely sure," he admitted. As if to show his sincerity, he reached for a sandwich and took a bite out of one. "But, if I had to guess, I would say that he doesn't want you staying with Kristoph."

"What?!" Ema exclaimed, then lowered her voice when she noticed a couple angry glares in her direction. "But why?"

His brows furrowed ever so slightly, and (like she had thought earlier) he seemed agitated about something. "Again, I'm not really sure, but I think we should definitely plan to attend Herr Wright's trial."

Why would he suggest a thing like that? Klavier wasn't really the type to sit in on other people's trials.

Klavier finished his sandwich, then seemed to read her mind. "Kristoph is Herr Wright's defense attorney. Or, more precisely, _Apollo Justice_ is the defense."

Ema gasped. Why hadn't she put those two things together? Of course it made sense now… no it really didn't make sense, but the _timing _made sense. Three days until Phoenix's trial. Three days until Apollo Justice's first defense.

"But… why would he request Apollo Justice? He's a complete newbie, and besides, Kristoph is the best defense attorney in LA! And his best friend!" She blurted out, again receiving some angry stares from patrons. Feeling a little guilty, she pretended to be focused on her lunch, taking a sandwich and dutifully chewing as she tried her best to avoid their eyes.

"Alas, more questions that I cannot answer, fräulein Skye," Klavier shook his head. "But rarely do the actions of mein bruder unsettle me like this."

"Unsettle you? Like… you're worried about Kristoph? Should I be worried too?" Ema continued to ask rapid-fire questions.

"It looks like we will have to wait until Herr Wright's trial," Klavier spread his hands and smiled, looking up at her with his twinkling blue eyes. "The courtroom is the place where truths are told, ja?"

"Ja…" she echoed weakly. In all honesty, she wasn't sure she liked his words.

* * *

_Time: 6:00 AM_

_Location: The LAPD_

_Mood: tense and anxious_

True to her word, Ema stayed at Lana's abode the following three days. Her sister asked few questions and accepted her with open arms.

Ema had tried to visit Phoenix Wright as he waited in jail, desperate to ask him what he meant, but it seemed each time she came he was busy with questioning. Or something.

For the first time since she had started her job at the LAPD, Ema had awoken early. She found clothes she deemed an appropriate disguise and headed to work.

After an hour of nervous fretting, she had worked herself into a panicked wreck. She jumped as a hand was laid on her shoulder.

"Fraulein Skye?" Klavier's voice sounded a little confused, but as she turned around she was no longer fixated on his voice.

The Klavier Gavin who stood in front of her looked exactly like he always did. "Klavier, I thought we were going to wear disguises?"

"I did suggest that, but…" he blanched a bit, and Ema took that opportunity to stand up. She grabbed the left lapel of his jacket and pulled it over his shoulder, urging his arm out of it. "Hey! What are you doing?"

Even though he complained, he allowed her to pull off his maroon jacket and toss it onto the back of her chair. "You can't be seen wearing the same clothes you always wear! We'll be up to our necks in fangirls, and you know it," Ema muttered, grasping the Gavinners emblem and pulling the necklace over his head.

She tossed the necklace aside, then touched her index finger to her chin in thought. "The belt has to go too, unless you really need it."

"Why don't you take that off too?" Klavier asked suggestively. Seeing her scowl, he pulled off the chain-belt on his own. "You're no fun."

While he was distracted, she took the opportunity to do something she had secretly wanted to do for a very long time.

Ema ran her fingers all the way through his hair.

True panic lit in his eyes. Ema grinned as his hands immediately flew to his hair, desperate to undo the damage she had just done. "Scheiß!! Ema, meine harre!"

She wasn't entirely sure what he was saying, but she had the distinct feeling he wasn't exactly grateful for what she was doing. "I told you, you can't look like you always do. That includes your hair." Determinedly, she pushed aside his hands and continued to run her fingers through his hair, freeing the long golden strands from the twist on the left side of his head.

He grimaced and grunted in disapproval, but eventually he gave-in. When she had finished, Ema took a step back to admire her handiwork.

Klavier's hair fell even more in front of his face than usual, a few strands falling in front of his left eye. Ema decided that he must spend at least ten minutes each day styling his bangs alone so that they had that desired wispy look without getting in the way of his vision. He had no such luck now.

The rest of his hair fell in soft waves to just below his shoulders. A few locks remained in front of the collar of the black long-sleeved button down that he typically wore beneath his jacket. His plain black pants were no longer burdened with what she had always suspected was an unnecessary metal chain belt, and his dark brown boots seemed normal enough.

"Look at what you've done to me," Klavier pouted, fumbling a little bit as he reached over for his jacket. After digging through his pockets for a few moments, he procured a pair of sunglasses, slipping them on. "I really hope nobody recognizes me."

Ema grinned, smoothing down the collar of his black button-down as an afterthought. "they won't. You couldn't look more normal."

"And _you_ couldn't look more _abnormal_," Klavier shook his head with a smirk.

"Just what is that supposed to mean?" Ema challenged immediately. "I am wearing a _disguise_."

"You sure are," the prosecutor agreed. He pulled at the back of her long black cape. "We're trying _not_ to attract attention, ja?"

In fact, Ema hadn't really thought of that this morning. She had been so worried about Phoenix and about Kristoph that she had only fixated on finding a disguise. All she cared about was that people would not recognize her, and looking down at what she was wearing, she was certain they wouldn't.

"Black cape, bright orange beret, green polka-dot blouse, blue striped skirt, white sneakers," Klavier listed the articles of clothing she wore wish a shake of his head. "Anime Expo will think they've lost a cosplayer."

Without another thought, she reached into her desk drawer and flung!

Snackooed right between the eyes.

Klavier might look slightly hot right now, but he really deserved that. Wait… slightly hot? Ema shook her head. "Urg, you're making me lose my mind!"

"Wouldn't be the first time I've heard that," Klavier smirked, catching the snackoo as usual and chewing thoughtfully. "There's only one way to resolve this problem."

"What?" Ema asked with barely concealed fake-enthusiasm.

"Shopping."

* * *

_Time: 9:00 AM_

_Location: The GAP_

_Mood: Not thrilled_

They discovered that most places were still closed at 6:30 in the morning, but by the time 9:00 rolled around, at least a few stores were opening their doors.

The ever enthusiastic employees of the GAP opened their doors, and the duo raced inside. "Just one more hour until the trial! We have to find something!"

Klavier dug in his pocket, pulled out a 100 dollar bill, and announced to all the cheerful morning employees. "One hundred dollars to the first person who can find this fräulein an outfit that fits. She wears a size eight and is open to new ideas."

Ema wondered briefly how Klavier knew her pant size, but she didn't have much time to think before the retail employees descended on her like an evil denim wave.

* * *

_Time: 9:32 AM_

_Location: The court house_

_Mood: Rushed_

_Mental state: Gyaaa!!!_

Ema raced into the courthouse and promptly hid behind a potted plant. Klavier seemed puzzled at first, but then he understood, falling into place behind her.

Kristoph stood in the defense lobby, his eyes roaming the room in search of someone.

"Oh it's me, he's got to be looking for me!" Ema wailed, covering her head with her hands.

"Or, he's looking for Herr Justice, who appears to not be here yet," Klavier suggested. He poked her bare back, murmuring in that annoying way, "and not that I mind the view, but perhaps we should find somewhere else to blend-in?"

She wanted to turn around and smack him, but that would definitely attract attention to them. Instead she thought about her new clothes as Klavier lead her to a slightly more crowded hallway where they could disappear into the masses easier.

The retail employees seemed to have a very liberal view of "open to new ideas." She actually _had_ turned around and smacked Klavier in the store when they brought out a bikini bathing suit. Though he claimed she was being unfair and that the outfit was fine, Ema had demanded that it be taken back.

After much deliberation, she now found herself in high platform heels, the brown straps of the sandals barely helping her keep balance. They found her a mid-length denim skirt with far too many useless buttons and a peculiar frilly black top that seemed to be missing a few pieces of fabric in the front and back. Klavier had poked one of those places.

"_Ah, and fräulein Skye, one more thing," Klavier had said outside the store, grinning as though he had an evil plot in his mind. Before she could do a thing, he had pulled the tie out of her hair and run his fingers through her long brown locks, leaving them a disheveled and somewhat-wavy mess._

She grumbled, furiously brushing her hair for a few moments before returning the brush back to her purse.

Klavier noticed, and turned to look at her from behind his sunglasses (or at least, Ema assumed he was looking at her.) "You look lovely, fräulein Skye."

"Lovely?" Ema laughed bitterly. "Half of my hair is wavy and the other half is straight!"

Before she could continue that upset line of thought, the doors of the courtroom opened. Though there were far fewer people than Ema had become accustomed to in court (due to the lack of a certain annoying group) the crowd around them began to move. Dutifully, they stood and followed.

Ema found an inconspicuous corner behind the defense (out of Kristoph's eyesight) and sat down.

"If you keep sitting like that, the entire courtroom will think _you're_ the murderer," Klavier commented as he reclined back on the smooth hard-wood bench. "…or that you're constipated. You're not, are you?"

"No!" Ema hissed back at him. Why was he asking such _stupid_ questions? "Why do you have to be such a freak?"

The only response she received from Klavier was a smirk. Rather than contemplate the thought process that went on inside his idiotic mind, she reflected on his words just a bit, deciding that there was some truth behind him.

She _was_ sitting tensely, hunched forward, her eyes fixed on the backs of the defense's heads. She could barely make them out from the back, but she knew that black spiky hair (that was now somewhat hidden behind a silly blue hat.) She would know it if he were a mile away. Maybe.

"Mr. Wright…" she murmured, trying to recline back like Klavier without looking too scandalous in her outfit. Though she had seen Kristoph defend in court before, supported him on a few occasions, she had never felt this unnerved before. She felt as though she were the one on trial again. Not Phoenix. Not Kristoph.

Wait? Why did she even think that? Of course not Kristoph!

She pressed her eyelids shut, attempting to straighten out her thoughts. Unfortunately, it seemed impossible right now.

Her attention was drawn back to the room at the sharp sound of a gavel. "The court is now in session."

Winston Payne, perhaps the wimpiest prosecutor Ema had ever seen, responded, "The prosecution is ready, Your Honor."

For a moment, she saw a glimmer of hope. There was no way Kristoph could lose against Payne! He was a pushover!

Then Apollo spoke, reminding her that Phoenix had specifically requested Kristoph's _apprentice_. "Uh, the defense is, un, fine! I mean ready, Your Honor!"

This was going to be a long trial.

* * *

_Time: 11:52 AM_

_Location: Still inside the courtroom_

_Mood: Anxious_

"Recess!" Klavier smiled happily. "You know, it's nice not having anything to do for a change."

Ema didn't share his sentiments. "Klavier! How can you be so happy-go-lucky right now? Mr. Wright is barely hanging on by a string! Oh this is terrible…"

"Patience fräulein Skye," Klavier said. "There is little we can do but watch this story unfold."

She refused to admit it, but he was right.

* * *

_Time: 2:32 PM_

_Location: Still inside the courtroom_

_Mood: Distraught_

"Recess…" Klavier murmured.

Ema almost didn't hear him. She couldn't believe what was happening. "Kristoph is going to take the stand soon… you don't think he…"

"Patience," he repeated.

Again, she found that he was right.

* * *

_Time: 4:28 PM_

_Location: Still inside the courtroom_

_Mood: In shock_

"Kristoph… no … Kristoph…" Ema murmured, letting her face fall into her hands. Everything fit into place now. The reason Kristoph seemed so strange three nights ago… the reason Phoenix had asked her to stay at Lana's…

Kristoph was a murderer. He had killed a man in cold blood three nights ago. Ema didn't want to believe that it was true, but all the evidence in this trial pointed to him.

At least Phoenix was free. She wanted to be happy for him, to run up and say "congratulations!" with a smiling face and gather a few people for a celebration dinner. It may have been selfish of her, but she couldn't muster up the strength to even stand.

Phoenix's freedom had come at a very high cost.

They were leading Kristoph away in handcuffs now, she knew it, but she didn't want to see it.

"Fräulein Skye, we should go," she heard Klavier say quietly, urging her up from where she sat. Like a ghost, she walked with him out the doors, down the hallway, outside, onto his motorcycle, off his motorcycle, and up to Lana's home.

Ema felt nothing as she walked up the steps. The cool twilight air felt so distant, and so did Klavier as he told her, "take tomorrow off."

She vaguely remembered thanking him, wandering into Lana's guest bedroom, and collapsing into a sobbing heap onto the bed.

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

Ema needs some cheering up. Perhaps another shopping excursion with Klavier would do the trick?

For those of you following, the events of Apollo Justice will continue to happen in the following chapters. If you don't like spoilers (like the one above) I would suggest that you play the game!

Reviews make me happy, please review! :)


	14. Day 69: Breaking Up

_Time: 12:00 PM_

_Location: Lana's guest bedroom_

_Mood: lethargic_

_Yesterday, my worst fears became a reality. No, Phoenix didn't commit the crime of killing Shadi Smith…. Kristoph did._

_Kristoph Gavin… **my Kristoph**… killed a man in cold blood._

_I don't know what to call him anymore. A murderer... my boyfriend? No, he can't be my boyfriend any longer._

_I can't even bear to face him right now. Maybe in a few days… weeks… but now? Not now._

_Would you believe that all of my things are still at his place? Looks like I'll have to pick everything up later. At least I at least brought my diary along…_

_Lana has been worried about me all day. She took the morning off. We had pancakes at the little diner down the street. I don't know how she found out. I didn't tell her, but I knew she would know somehow. She always does._

_I feel terrible for worrying her. I probably worried Klavier too. Glimmerous fop though he is, he doesn't deserve to think that I'll jump off a bridge and kill myself. _

_Tomorrow I'll go back to work. Tomorrow I'll make sure that everything is ok. If not for myself, then for Lana… and I suppose glimmer-boy too. _

* * *

_Time: 5:00 AM_

_Location: Bed… sweet bed…_

_Mood: No, don't take away my fuzzy socks!_

Ema had made a secret vow to her diary to return to work the next day. Knowing that this was a promise she couldn't break, she dutifully flung the covers off herself when the alarm rang at 5:00 AM the next morning.

And quickly pulled them back on.

"KLAVIER!!!" She shrieked. "_What_ are you _doing_ here?!"

Klavier had his hand on the door. Ema deduced that he had just walked through, making the scenario only _slightly_ less… well, whatever it was. "Fräulein Skye, today you are not going to work."

"Oooook…." She muttered while slowly realizing that she had her pajamas on, making it ok to get out of bed with him in the room after all. She threw the covers off again, stretched, and yawned. "Whadja havin mind?"

"You'll see," were the only two words he offered.

"Great, you're being mysterious again," Ema grumbled, crossing the room. Grasping his glimmerous jacket, she pushed him into the hallway and out into the living room. "Well, be mysterious out here for a while. I'll be ready in a little bit."

She started to walk back to her room, then felt just a tiny twinge of remorse leaving him alone. "The TV remote's on the coffee table," she added as an afterthought.

Wait. Why should _she_ feel remorseful that _he_ had scared _her_ this morning and was subsequently left alone by _himself_ while _she_ got ready?

Ema attempted to mull over her own line of reasoning while she showered and pulled on her typical clothes, realizing that she was really starting to miss all of her spare clothes at Kristoph's…

When she walked back out into the living room, on her way to the kitchen, she found Klavier sitting at the couch with what looked like a stack of bread.

"I made buttered toast," he explained proudly.

"That's… special. Thanks," Ema nodded, sitting next to him on the couch and helping herself to a slice of toast. It hardly compared to what Kristoph used to make in the mornings, but at least it wasn't burned.

As she put the slice of bread in her mouth, she finally noticed what was on the TV. "_Days of our Lives?!_"

"So close to reality sometimes, ja?" Klavier responded wistfully. She hoped he was kidding. She really did.

Just as Ema was about to mock him horribly, Lana strolled into the room, frowning at the toast. "Bread? Ema, prison inmates eat better than that. Why don't you give our guest something better?"

Without waiting for a response, Lana glided into the kitchen, pulling food out of their secret hiding places in the refrigerator and cupboards. "Muffins, pancake and waffle mix, eggs, bacon… what do you two want?"

Ten minutes later, they were all seated at the table with eggs, bacon, muffins, and Klavier's stack of buttered toast.

"Ema, Mr. Gavin wants to help you with a few things today," Lana said, digging quickly yet neatly into a muffin.

Ema winced a little, hearing that name again. "Yes, I'd be happy to ditch work and go somewhere with _Klavier_," she responded, emphasizing his name.

"From what – Klavier – has said, I hardly think you'll find today easy," Lana responded, seeming to slightly stress Klavier's first name too.

This was weird. As if things weren't convoluted enough right now, having breakfast with Lana and Klavier was just… strange.

The awkwardness passed quickly though, because Lana stood and left, taking her muffin with her. "I think you two have important things to discuss, and my client is an early riser. Ema, if you need anything, call."

With that, she was gone, leaving them to finish their breakfast.

* * *

_Time: 6:40 AM_

_Location: The Deathcycle_

_Mood: FEAR FOR LIFE!!!_

Things only became increasingly strange when Klavier parked the deathcycle outside an all too familiar building.

"Why are we here?" Ema asked, feeling a cold shiver run up her spine even though it was a blistering 80 degrees outside.

They were standing outside Kristoph's condo complex – the place they had shared for the last two months.

"Fräulein Skye, I know this is difficult," Klavier said, looking at her square in the eyes. "But if I may, I would like to help you move your things to Lana's."

"Wait, you're joking, right?" Ema asked, giving him a skeptical look.

He responded earnestly, spreading his hands to show that he bore no ill will. "Not at all, but the choice is yours to make."

"Klavier…" she breathed, a tiny smile on her lips. "I guess you're not a _completely_ self-absorbed jerk."

"I'll consider that a compliment, from you. So is that a yes?" he asked with a smirk.

"That's a yes," she conceded, allowing him to open the door (with a key she didn't know he had.)

They walked just a little differently, she noted, as she watched him stride to the elevator in front of her. Klavier had more of a showy-glimmerous strut, while Kristoph walked in a more refined and (dare she say it?) slightly effeminate manner.

It was only a subtle difference though. There were far more unsettling similarities between the Gavin brothers than Ema cared to really think about. The shade and style of their hair, the build of their bodies, and even the way they _smelled_…

"Fräulein Skye?" Klavier's voice suddenly drew her attention back to his face, where she supposed it really should have been anyway. He was holding the elevator open for her, giving her a curiously puzzled look.

Just how long had she been standing in front of the elevator thinking about him?! She mentally scolded herself as she stepped into the elevator, letting him press the button to the proper floor.

And there it was again, the same cologne that both brothers wore. It wasn't enough to be overpowering, but it was enough to remind Ema of _his_ scent… as he would take her into his arms… as he would kiss her…

"Fräulein Skye?" Klavier's voice again drew her attention away from unwanted thoughts. Again, he was holding the elevator open for her, his previous puzzled look now a bit concerned.

Once more, she mentally scolded herself and strolled from the elevator, pulling out her key and unlocking the door. As she pushed it open, she found it tough to not become paralyzed in the foyer. It had been three – no four – days since she had come here.

Everything was exactly like how she left it. Immaculately clean kitchen, living room with all but Kristoph's most recent book (My Best Friend) on the shelf, windows wide open with a gorgeous view of the city… yes, it was all still here.

"I believe your room was this way?" Klavier took her hand, urging her past the front room and into the hallway.

Ema gasped, pulling back a little, "our shoes!"

"I really don't think he'll care for a very long time," Klavier said, insistently tromping in his boots through the spotlessly white carpet floors. Well… what _used_ to be spotless, Ema noted as she looked back behind them.

When she pushed open the door to her room, she again felt a wave of nostalgia hit her. Again, everything was still in its place. Everything down to her emergency ration of instant noodles from her previous apartment and the battered but lovable second hand futon. And the bed…

The bed Kristoph had bought for her. The bed she never had the guts to share with him and now never would.

Ema felt a knot begin to form in her throat, but she swallowed it away. She had to get through this. She had to put all of this behind her.

As if he knew exactly what she had been thinking, Klavier gestured towards the room and said, "well, shall we?"

Ten minutes later, Ema was realizing that packing just might be one of her least favorite things. How had Kristoph done all of this in one afternoon?!

When they had finally collected all of her belongings and put them into boxes and bags, a horrible realization finally dawned on her. "We're not going to carry all of this on your motorcycle, are we?"

Terrible images of them laboring to balance a bed, dresser, and several large shopping bags (all while perched precariously on top of Klavier's deathcycle) ran through her head. But when she turned her shocked gaze to the prosecutor, she found that he was still smiling as charmingly and nonchalantly as ever.

"Really, fräulein Skye, you don't think I'm _that_ dense, do you?" he asked, shaking his head.

On cue (as everything seemed to be when Klavier was around) a ghastly sound pierced through the air. Unfortunately, Ema would later recognize it as yet another of the Gavinners' hit singles. In the meantime, it was just another annoying cell phone ring tone.

Klavier glanced at his phone with a satisfied nod. "You're here? Good. We'll be down in a couple minutes."

A couple minutes later, Ema stood speechless (and also feeling a little foolish) in front of the moving truck. Klavier gestured towards the truck with a happy smile. "Ema, meet the movers."

* * *

_Time: 10:30 AM_

_Location: The Country Kitchen_

_Mood: Conflicted_

Restaurants. Again in another restaurant. And not just any place, no. A restaurant that specifically boasted a certain specialty…

"Bacon pancakes?" Ema blanched, "you've got to be kidding me!"

"Nein!" he exclaimed, proudly showing her the picture on the menu. "You should order them too."

"Whatever, glimmer-boy." She said, shoving his menu away with a rude hand. "Didn't we just eat breakfast at Lana's?"

While she pretended to contemplate her own menu, Ema's thoughts again fell invariably back to Kristoph. How many times had they gone out to eat together? Kristoph, sitting across from her, always smiling, ready to offer a suggestion if she was about to order something unpleasant.

Kristoph Gavin… always smiling…

Something tugged at the corners of her memory. Something that someone had said about that long ago…

Phoenix Wright. Ema remembered suddenly. Phoenix had warned her the first time she and Kristoph had visited the Borscht Bowl Club together.

"_Ema, you might have realized this already, but Kristoph is a little different than other guys… He will always smile on the outside, but…"_

Phoenix had never had the chance to finish that sentence.

Ema planted her face in her palm with disgust. How did she _not_ see that Phoenix was trying to warn her about Kristoph? She was a scientist, after all! It was so obvious now.

Instead, she hadn't understood him. She had fallen for Kristoph Gavin that very evening. And even now…

Ema winced. The thin silver chain that held the heart charm he had given her that evening felt suddenly heavier around her neck now. _Why am I still wearing it anyway?_

She nearly jumped when she felt a hand encompass hers, squeezing gently. She looked up, Klavier's face bleary before her. With his features blurred like this, he almost looked like…

Ema quickly took her hand away, wiping the tears out of her eyes. No. It was definitely _Klavier_ sitting in front of her.

"I take it you really don't want bacon pancakes," he said gently.

She smiled pathetically back at him. "No, I guess I really don't want anything right now."

"Fräulein Skye, may I ask you something?" Klavier closed his menu, sliding it aside. Even after she nodded, he seemed to have a little trouble asking his question. Finally, he spit it out. "Have you visited Kristoph yet?"

"No," she answered truthfully, searching the depths of Klavier's blue eyes, wondering if perhaps there were secrets locked behind them. "Why, do you think I should?"

"You may want to, eventually," Klavier suggested. "Sometime in the next few weeks…"

"Let's go now," she decided suddenly.

Klavier reeled back, clearly surprised, "seriously?"

"Seriously."

"So let me get this straight," he leaned back, musing outloud. "You _aren't_ in the mood for breakfast, but you _are_ in the mood for visiting a murderer in prison."

Ema reconsidered for a brief moment, then decided, "yes. That's right."

"Mmhmm. I see," Klavier closed his eyes momentarily, nodding to himself. "Then we'll visit him."

Ema peered closer at the unusually quiet prosecutor, wondering if he was all right. She had to remind herself that Kristoph was his brother, and that Klavier was probably a _little_ upset about this whole ordeal too.

"But first…" His eyes snapped open, his charming grin back in place. "I'm ordering bacon pancakes."

She should have expected it. Sighing, she did the only thing she could do.

Ema ordered waffles.

* * *

_Time: 11:55 AM_

_Location: Central Prison_

_Mental state: Unhinged_

"He's in solitary cell 13," Klavier explained when they walked through the typically unfriendly doors of Central Prison.

"Solitary… isn't that where they keep the people who are too dangerous to be with other people?" Ema asked, glancing about her nervously. As it wasn't her job to deal with people who had already been convicted, she hadn't had much occasion to visit the prison before.

"Ja…" Klavier murmured to her before explaining things once again to yet another guard on duty. Ema was content to leave the talking to him as she continued to contemplate their surroundings.

The cold whitewashed walls and barred windows made her uneasy. This was the type of place where scary serial-killers were kept. It hardly seemed like a place for Kristoph…

"Cell 13 is on the right," the guard's voice brought Ema out of her daze.

They were walking in a hallway much like the others. Plain, cold, devoid of anything that could possibly be enjoyable. The rooms in this hallway were very sparse, far enough away that the inhabitants couldn't even see each other, much less hold any conversation.

Even though heavy doors separated the inmates from them, Ema determinedly looked forward, doing her best to ignore the rooms around her. It wasn't until she stood in front of the door to cell 13 that she stopped, resting her hand on the cold metal door.

Kristoph was behind this door. Locked away in a cell that was likely as barren as the walls around them.

"It won't open without the key," Klavier nudged her aside so that the prison guard could open the door for them.

"Klavier," she murmured, turning to him suddenly. Searching out his clear blue eyes, she focused on them, feeling as though she were somehow betraying him with her next question. "Can I ask you something before we go in there?"

"Hmm?" he turned, stilling the guard with a quick motion of his hand. "What is it, fräulein Skye?"

"First, thank you… I know you want to be supportive, and trust me, I really appreciate that, but…" she took a deep breath, steeling herself for the next question. "Would you mind if I talked to him alone?"

Surprisingly, Klavier's expression didn't change. With a nod he simply said, "I understand. I will wait out here if you have any… trouble."

Ema smiled, thankful that he truly seemed to understand. "Thanks Klavier."

She turned back to face the door, feeling the adrenaline in her body kick up a notch, her heart beating faster as the guard again put the key to the lock. The door swung open, and she stepped inside...

It was not quite like she expected. Though the room was still mostly barren, Kristoph was seated in an extremely comfortable looking chair reading a book. A stack of five additional books was already waiting on a small table next to him.

He was still somehow in his sharp defense attorney attire. If she hadn't lived with him for a couple months, she would swear that he never took that thing off.

Kristoph looked up from his book as she entered, a smile already on his lips. "Ah, fräulein Skye, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" He slid a bookmark neatly between the pages of his book and placed it on top of the stack, standing as she slowly crossed the room.

Everything around Ema seemed somehow intensified. Even the quiet clicking of her shoes on the floor rang in her ears. She wanted to scream, cry, run into his arms, and smack him all at once. Extremely conflicted, she only managed to mutter, "Kristoph…"

"That _would_ be me," he nodded in agreement. When it became apparent that she wasn't going to say any more, he silently closed the gap between them. He reached up to gently run his fingers through a lock of her hair, but pulled away when she shuddered at his touch. "Mein fräulein, I'm sorry. I knew you would be hurt the most by this."

"How couldn't I be? That man…" Ema finally murmured, not daring to meet his gaze yet. "…did you really kill him?"

When he failed to respond, she looked past the clear panes of his glasses to the cold blue eyes behind them. Another question had been bothering her for quite some time, something she hadn't allowed herself to think about until now. "Did you really try to frame Phoenix?!"

Kristoph blinked calmly, "I believe that's the first time I've ever heard you call him 'Phoenix.' And this is the first time you have ever dared to be so forward." He smiled, taking Ema's hand and squeezing it gently. "My, how you've grown, in just these short few days."

At first, she was a little confused. Kristoph hadn't answered any of her questions, but he _had_ managed to divert the conversation back to her. Thinking back on it, Ema began to realize that quite a few of their conversations in the past had been this way. Why had she never realized it?

She also realized what his lack of a response must mean. A sick feeling twisted in her stomach, the thought alone making her feel queasy.

"So you did it then. It's true," she gripped his hand tighter, finding it impossible to believe that the soft hand she was holding right now could be capable of killing anyone. "You really are an evil human being."

"Now now, that's a bit harsh," Kristoph turned aside, breathing out quietly and adjusting his glasses with his free hand. She may have imagined it, but in his hand, she thought she saw it again. A demon.

Yet when he looked back at her, his eyes were warm and his smile so genuine that she found it difficult to believe he could possibly kill a fly, much less a human being. How could her Kristoph possibly be a demon? In a quiet voice, he said, "that's not entirely true."

"Then what _is_ true, Kristoph?" she asked, feeling tired of this constant struggle. "Tell me, what happened?"

He paused, seeming to consider his words carefully before speaking. "I made a terrible mistake. I panicked after it happened, and originally thought to blame Olga Orly. I never meant to pull Phoenix into any of this, but he was quite insistent."

"But why? Why would you kill that man?" Ema continued to press.

"Like I said, it was a terrible mistake, one that I intend to pay for," Kristoph explained, regret obvious in his voice.

So he wasn't innocent, no, but he wasn't evil either. He was still the Kristoph she had known. _Her Kristoph._

Ema knew what she had to do. She knew it was the _right_ thing to do. It _had_ to be done, but in her heart she also knew that she still loved him. "Ech…!" she winced, blinking away the tears that threatened to rise in her eyes.

"Ah, mein fräulein…" Kristoph's voice was deep, gentle and soothing as the embrace that he slowly pulled her into. He held her close for a few moments, and for those few moments, she held him back, relishing that warmth that she missed so dearly. "Go ahead and say it, my dearest fräulein Skye."

"Kristoph…" she held onto his name a little longer than usual, knowing that after she uttered the next few words that things could never be the same. Not that they were anyway.

Ema took one last deep breath, allowing herself to feel comfortable in his embrace, to breath in the scent of his light cologne and allow it to bringing back pleasant memories of the last few weeks. Softly, she whispered, "…we're through."

He sighed, lightly squeezing her one last time before letting her go. "There, that wasn't so hard, now was it?" Kristoph asked, a soft smile again on his lips.

Damn him! Damn his stupid composure and damn his charming smile! Ema regretted her decision already, but she bit her bottom lip, refusing to take anything back. She had made the _right_ choice. She was sure of it.

She shook her head, frowning at the situation. His response was almost too quick… too easy. "Kristoph, was this always just a game to you?"

"I beg your pardon, you'll have to clarify," he said, never losing that tone of familiarity that she so loved.

"_This. Us.__"_ She clarified.

"Why, of course not," he replied as she had expected he would. "Though I assumed things would end up this way after that trial."

Was he lying? Ema wished there were some way she could tell. Unfortunately, she had no such device and could only take his words at face value. "I see. Then I guess there's nothing more to say but goodbye."

"I suppose you're right," Kristoph nodded again with a smile. "Goodbye, fräulein Skye."

"Goodbye, Kristoph." She turned quickly around, tapping on the door, then pushing it open once she heard the click of the metal unlocking. She fled his cell before he could see the tears that were now streaming freely down her cheeks.

Once the heavy door had closed behind her, Ema ran straight into Klavier who, without a thought, pulled her close. Her entire body shook against his with sobs. He said nothing, merely stroking her back for some unknown amount of time.

When her tears finally subsided, he pulled away, holding her at arms length as he peered carefully into her bleary eyes. "Fräulein Skye, will you be ok out here by yourself for a couple minutes? I have something I need to ask him too."

Ema nodded, leaning back against the cold stone wall next to the door, where she wouldn't have to look at Kristoph when it opened.

"Good," he rubbed the side of her arm, then signaled to the guard (who had been patiently waiting) to open the door again for him.

She waited outside, wiping the tears off her cheeks and doing her best to ignore the prison guard who was looking at her curiously. Inside, she heard Kristoph's voice again. "Ah, mein bruder…"

After which, both Gavin brothers dove into a waterfall of German that she would again have no hope of understanding or remembering, except for one point in which Klavier, in perfect English, exclaimed, "Damaged?!"

They spoke in their nonsense language for what had to be at least ten minutes. It could have been the guttural inflections of the language, but Ema had the distinct impression that they were a little bit angrier at each other than the last time.

Then again, last time she had thought they were angry at each other, they had been talking about stew and the proper temperature to raise it to for three hours.

A little while later, Klavier emerged from the cell looking grim. She had a feeling his experience with Kristoph was less than pleasant. "Let's go."

Ema didn't argue.

* * *

_Time: 1:30 PM_

_Location: Lana's home_

Klavier parked outside Lana's home, waiting patiently for Ema to dismount and hand him the helmet.

And then they were both standing there awkwardly, neither certain of what to say as they stood on the cement steps. "About Kristoph…"

Klavier held up a ringed finger, silencing her with a shake of his head. "I think we both have things we must consider before we speak of him."

"I think I agree with you, for once," she sighed. Kristoph had complicated things in both of their lives. She laughed bitterly, "we really _are_ like _Days of our Lives_, aren't we?"

"So close to reality sometimes, ja?" he echoed his own words from earlier that morning weakly. "I'll see you tomorrow, fräulein Skye, but…"

Ema wasn't sure why, but she had the distinct feeling that Klavier was about to do something significant…

Klavier dug into his pocket, pulling out something and handing it to her quickly. "If you want to talk about anything _else_, you know my number." With a grin, he mounted his deathcycle and drove away.

…something that would make her _hate_ him. Again.

It was a self autographed picture of himself. This time, he had scrawled his cell phone number on the front too, next to his glimmerous smile.

Ema shouted after his disappearing figure as he blazed down the street. "I hate you, Klavier Gavin!"

Yet, for some reason, she again stowed the picture away in her purse.

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

This is my ultra-late holiday gift to _you!_ I apologize for the late release, but I've had writer's block something fierce. This chapter wasn't easy.

Speaking of holiday gifts, I received a couple from two of you! Thank you to Daidairo and Todd who sent me adorable gift-pics of Klavier and bunny rabbits. I've put links to the pictures in my profile for anyone who would like to see them. =)

So to all of you going back to work, school, or (if you're like me) both, then I hope this brightened your day just a bit! And if it didn't, well... next chapter will be brighter, anyway. Speaking of which, it is already underway and will hopefully be out for its regular release time. :)

Questions? Comments? Concerns? Review! ^_^


	15. Day 70: Life Continues

_Time: 5:30 PM_

_Location: Lana's home?_

_Life never ceases to surprise me. _

_Today I visited Kristoph in prison. He seems well. Pleased, almost, that he now has time for all of his reading._

_Really, besides being a murderer, he's the same Kristoph, but…_

_I broke up with him today. _

Ema stared at that sentence for a few moments, a teardrop falling on top of the 'y' in today, marring her penmanship. It happened, but it didn't seem real. Writing it seemed to cement things, making them somehow more permanent than they were before.

_**I broke up with Kristoph Gavin.**_

She wrote again, a little harder than before.

_And yet, somehow he wasn't surprised. He wasn't angry, sad, or anything really. He was just… the same Kristoph._

_How could he have murdered someone? How could he even think of framing his best friend Phoenix?! It goes against everything I thought he believed in…_

_But apparently, he isn't the man I thought he was. Kristoph is a cruel man…_

Ema found that she couldn't write any more about him right now without breaking into a fresh set of tears.

_Another surprising thing happened today. I have my own apartment again! Lana said she actually owned the flat underneath her place and had been looking to rent it out to someone. _

_She isn't even going to charge me rent. At least, not yet. She said we could talk about it later. I feel so fortunate to have such a caring older sister._

_The movers brought all my things to this new apartment. It's not as fancy or nice as Kristoph's, but it sure beats the shoebox studio I lived in before this._

_So I'm writing this now, sitting on my second-hand futon (I left the bed at Kristoph's) with my favorite food beside me._

_You guessed it: instant noodles._

As she wrote the words down, Ema began to realize that instant noodles weren't quite cutting it right now. She really wanted something else to eat, but she didn't want to bother Lana again. Not after everything she had done for her.

Her mind decided, Ema set out for the restaurant district, catching a mostly barren bus and perusing her options.

As she stared at the storefronts, thoughts of Kristoph began to again creep back into her mind. Why wouldn't he go away? Why couldn't she let this die?!

"Oh please, please whatever god or goddesses or whatever is out there, please help…" Ema murmured quietly, not loud enough for anyone but herself to hear, really.

And then she saw them, her eyes lighting happily. "Thank you!"

Ema pushed the door to the nearby restaurant open, running to the two men who had impacted her life the most.

Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth.

"Mr. Wright, Mr. Edgeworth…" she murmured, seating herself across from them in their circular booth. Any other time, she would have wondered why they were both sitting on the same side, but she simply couldn't care about that right now.

Phoenix shifted to her side immediately, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. She wasn't sure how he did it, but he seemed able to tell how upset she was. "What's wrong, Ema?"

"It's _Kristoph_…" though she had told herself to be strong, and definitely not to cry over him any more, she found that simply wasn't possible.

Edgeworth slid to her other side, and though he didn't make any move to touch her, (apparently that wasn't his thing) he did sound genuinely concerned when he spoke, "Ema, you visited him, didn't you? What did he say to you?"

She nodded, sniffling and wiping her bleary eyes with her sleeve. "He didn't say much, but… he's…. a _murderer_… and I think he tried to _frame_ you, Mr. Wright…"

Ema looked up into Phoenix's eyes, sobbing, "I _loved_ him… how could I love someone like that?"

Phoenix gently pulled her close, hugging her in a calming and warming way. "I know you did, but sometimes love isn't meant to be."

"Wright, what do _you_ know about _love_?" Edgeworth asked snidely.

Phoenix looked pointedly at Edgeworth, proclaiming proudly, "Once I was in love with a girl who ended up being a crazy evil psychopath, but I didn't know it, I thought she was really a nice girl, who she actually was, because her twin sister pretended she was her most of the time to get back this necklace I wouldn't take off, that the evil girl gave me, when I first met her."

Ema looked at him quizzically, completely confused.

"Look, the point is," Phoenix quickly continued, pointing forward with his whole hand, "I didn't really know the person I was in love with until the very end."

He looked at Ema as if that clarified everything. "Love's like that. You get blinded by the bright lights sometimes."

"That was… unexpectedly insightful," Edgeworth said, then turned to face Ema, his words as clear and precise as they had always been, "Ema, what Wright is trying to tell you is that Kristoph Gavin is a self-centered and highly egotistical man. He never deserved your favor, and you shouldn't feel as though you are at fault."

"No, you shouldn't," Phoenix agreed. "I happen to know Kristoph very well. He is caught in a peculiar game right now."

"Don't you mean _was_ caught? He's in _jail_ now," Ema shook her head, miserably leaning on Phoenix's shoulder.

"It's… really difficult to explain, but he's been caught in this game for the past seven years," he explained, rubbing the stubble on his chin thoughtfully with one hand while leaving the other around Ema's shoulders.

"Seven years?" Edgeworth's interest seemed to pique too.

"Kristoph has been undoing himself for quite some time now," Phoenix continued quietly. "His present path had nothing to do with you at all."

"Are you sure?" she mumbled, forcing herself to sit up and face him.

"Positive. It will all become clear soon," he gave her his award-winning reassuring grin, goading a tiny smile out of her. "Besides, I happen to know there are others out there far better suited for you than Kristoph ever was."

Ema wanted to ask who these people were, but before she could, Phoenix summoned their waiter over, placing an order for a "kitchen sink." Having never been to whatever restaurant this was, she was perplexed.

Edgeworth's only comment about the matter was that he wasn't going to help eat it.

When the celebrated sink arrived, Ema's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Six whole bananas, 10 large scoops of ice cream, whipped cream, chocolate syrup, caramel, nuts, and cherries hadn't been what she expected when she left her apartment looking for dinner.

Not that she was complaining.

Ten minutes later they were sitting with a mostly finished sink. As promised, Edgeworth dutifully stayed out of their way as Ema and Phoenix tore into the dessert.

Afterwards, they were all laughing, their hands covered in a sticky mess of ice-cream and chocolate (except Edgeworth, who was simply looking on with amusement, completely clean.)

"Thank you, Mr. Wright, Mr. Edgeworth," she said, looking at each of them in turn, smiling while she tried to wipe some of the mess off her hands onto a napkin. "I've decided that I won't let Kristoph ruin my life. If he really chose this destructive path seven years ago, then I want nothing to do with it."

"Nobody should," Edgeworth agreed, taking the liberty to hand her another napkin when she had covered hers with a chocolaty mess.

Ema accepted the extra napkin with a smile. "You two have been far too kind to me. I really hope I wasn't interrupting anything…"

Both men were quick to respond at once. Edgeworth with a simple "no" and Phoenix with an "Of course not!"

Ema blinked with the suddenness of their responses, laughing a little. "You're funny! But really… thanks."

As Ema left the restaurant, walking back to the bus stop, the smile never left her lips. Edgeworth had been right. Regardless of what happened, she did indeed have many allies.

Phoenix, Edgeworth, Lana, and even Klavier…

"Even _you_ helped me today, glimmer-boy," Ema whispered into the calm nighttime air, wondering if perhaps she was being a bit harsh on him earlier when she proclaimed her hatred for him. Loudly.

Then again, he _was_ a glimmerous fop. She couldn't say why, but his showy nature bothered her even more now than ever before.

And he gave her a self autographed picture of himself _again!_ If it didn't work the first time, why would he ever try the same thing again?!

Deciding that she had far more questions than answers now, she looked up once more at the nighttime sky before boarding the bus. "We'll just have to see what tomorrow brings… won't we?"

* * *

_Day 70_

_Time: 6:00 AM_

_Location: LAPD_

_Mood: Horrified_

Tomorrow didn't bring quite what Ema had hoped. It was a far from pleasant day at work. Not only did thoughts of Kristoph loom gloomily over her head, but everyone at the workplace seemed far more distant than usual. Even Gumshoe was discreetly distant.

Ema sighed, finally placing her pen down after 15 minutes of pointedly ignoring him. "Gumshoe, I can see you under there."

"Oh! What really? I mean…" Gumshoe began, chuckling as he crawled out from underneath his desk. "It wasn't as if I was _hiding_ from you or anything, no not at all."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you shouldn't ever try lying?" she asked sardonically.

"Well, I think prosecutor Edgeworth said something about that once," Gumshoe looked up at the fluorescent ceiling lights thoughtfully. Then he frowned, looking sad and dejected, "and then he said I was useless."

"You should follow his advice more," She replied, doing her best to continue filling out the forms that had somehow continued to pile up on her desk while she was gone.

"Sure I do! It's not like I was lying or anything to you. Sure I was! I mean, wasn't."

What?

Exasperated, Ema placed her pen down again, deciding that she wasn't going to get any work done under these conditions. "Gumshoe, what's going on? Why is everyone giving me the cold shoulder today? It's not because of Kristoph, is it?"

Gumshoe's eyes widened to comical proportions, telling her that it did indeed have something to do with Kristoph, but as for what it was, she never found out. Gumshoe had decided to discreetly go to the bathroom for a while instead of answering her questions.

Ema moaned, wondering how the day could get worse.

Just then, her desk phone rang. Picking up the phone, she answered glumly, "Detective Ema Skye, what do you want?"

"Cheerful as always, fräulein Skye! Guten morgen!" It just got worse.

"What do you want glimmer-boy?" she asked.

Despite her attempts to ward him away, he continued urgently, "come by the prosecutor's office. I need to tell you something."

"What's stopping you from coming here?" Ema countered, pointing at the blank wall of the cubicle in front of her as if it were Gavin.

"It's something that I can't tell you over there," he continued insistently. "Bitte, fräulein Skye… just a few minutes of your time."

It was then that Ema realized Klavier might know why everyone was acting so strange around her. Perhaps going to the prosecutor's office could have some benefit to her as well. "Fine, but no more made up words, and you'd better have a bag of snackoos ready for me."

* * *

_Time: 6:40 AM_

_Location: Klavier's office_

_Mood: Snackoos!_

The promised snackoos flew through the air towards her as soon as she opened the door. Ema was never very good at sports, but her natural snackoo-instincts allowed her to catch the bag mid-air, open them, and start munching all within a .5 second time span.

"Please, close the door if you would," Klavier asked, a strange request for him.

Ema thought nothing of it, lightly kicking the door closed behind her, and sat atop Klavier's enormous amplifier. "Well, glimmer-boy? What is it? Do you know why everyone is acting so strange?"

Klavier appeared surprised. "It's already out at the police offices? Oh this… this isn't good."

Ema hadn't been concerned before, just annoyed, but now she was starting to grow a little alarmed. "What are you talking about?" She stood up from where she sat, walking over to Klavier.

Then, she noticed the file sitting on his desk. A file with her name on the cover.

"What is this?" she demanded, scooping up the folder and scanning the cover report. She gasped, leaning back against his desk for support. "Oh… oh my gosh…"

Ema looked incredulously at the blonde haired prosecutor, shaking her head, "N-no… tell me this isn't… you're joking, right?"

"Nein, I wish I could say it was a joke, fräulein Skye," Klavier said quietly. "You are suspected of sharing confidential police information with Kristoph, illegally allowing him an unfair advantage in his cases."

"Just when I thought this nightmare was ending," Ema sighed, tossing the folder back onto his desk. "Klavier, you know I didn't do that!"

"I didn't think you would," Klavier responded, taking a snackoo from her bag while she was too preoccupied to care. "It strikes me as odd, though, that this would come out _now_… _after_ Kristoph has been sent to prison."

"You don't think…" Ema began.

"I do," he sighed, eating the snackoo and shaking his head. "Kristoph may be starting this trouble; although, I'm not sure _how_ he could accomplish anything in solitary confinement."

"Kristoph always knew everything," she murmured, her thoughts wandering momentarily, "_just like Lana._"

Ema finally noticed Klavier sneaking another snackoo, smacking away his hand. "Fräulein Skye is so cruel! Especially to the prosecutor who intends to _help_ her with this mess."

"What? You? Help?" Ema seemed surprised.

"If it really is him, I can't sit back and let my brother do this," the blonde said with what Ema could only describe as quiet passion. "His manipulation needs to stop somewhere."

"Manipulation?" She chewed on a snackoo, waiting for his answer.

Unfortunately, his answer never really came. "Don't worry about it."

Just as she was about to demand more of an explanation, he stood from his ultra-comfy looking chair. "In fact, don't worry about anything. I'll take care of this mess, but I will need something from you."

Ema felt like she really should be more compromising with the man who was trying to help her, but unfortunately she had two snackoos in her mouth.

"I need the key to your apartment," he finally said, not waiting for her to respond.

She nearly spat her snackoos out at him. "Fhwhaht?!"

"As the prosecutor of this case, I could simply acquire a search warrant and go around you, but I thought I would try asking your permission first," Klavier rationalized helpfully.

Prosecutor. Case. Against _her_.

It finally sunk in that this was really happening, and that if she didn't let Klavier do whatever it was he was planning on doing, she could be in a whole world of trouble. She swallowed her snackoos and let out a resigned sigh, digging into her purse and procuring her key.

Just as she was about to hand the key over, she yanked it back, "Wait, why don't I just come with you like I usually do?"

"You can't!" He said quickly, then hesitated. "I mean… I can't let you." He looked away, likely not wanting to meet her gaze. "Forgive me, fräulein Skye, but you could change evidence…"

For some reason, Ema felt slightly suspicious, but eventually she tossed her key over to him. "Fine, but you'd better not make too much of a mess."

"_Me_ make a mess? Just what would you call your apartment right now?" Klavier chided her with a stupid glimmerous smirk. He walked to his door and beaconed her over.

"My apartment is scientifically organized," Ema stated, flipping down her pink glasses. She followed him through the door and started walking downstairs into the main lobby at the prosecutor's office. "It's _you_ who can't find anything."

"You keep your instant noodles in the freezer," he pointed out.

"Next to the ice-cubes, ice-cream, and iodide. They all start with "I,"" she reasoned. "Besides, it keeps them fresh."

"But they're _instant_ noodles…" Klavier closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head.

She determinedly munched on her snackoos, a pout forming on her face. "Whatever, glimmer-boy. At least I _have_ food at my house."

By this point, they were standing outside. Next to the deathcycle.

"You should take the rest of the day off, fräulein Skye," Klavier suggested, pulling out the heart-shaped keychain that held the key to his motorcycle. "Want a ride home? I happen to be going that way."

"Haha. Funny." Ema grumbled a bit more but eventually accepted his offer.

* * *

_Time: 8:30 AM_

_Location: Lana's guest room_

_Mood: Suspicious_

Just when she thought she was done with Lana's guest bedroom, Ema found herself back in the familiar room. Lana was a little worried about her this time, and Ema was also growing suspicious of the activities on the floor below her.

"What is he _doing_ down there?" Ema wondered, imagining all of the horrible things he could be doing to her precious forensics equipment right now. And everything else.

Everything she owned was down there. Everything from her clothes to her instant noodles. She couldn't even write in her diary right now because _that_ was downstairs!

Ema sighed, laying back in the guest bed and trying to force herself to calm down, "Relax Ema, it's just glimmer-boy down there. What could he possibly do with your stuff anyway?"

She had to admit, her argument was convincing. There wasn't anything incriminating down there, but shouldn't Klavier already know that? He helped pack everything just yesterday!

Ema moaned, rolled over, and tried to forget about the whole mess.

* * *

_Time: 1:40 PM_

_Location: Lana's guest room_

_Mood: Mergle…_

Ema awoke a little later to the annoying sound of her cell phone ringing. "Go away…"

Insistently, it rang again. She ignored it again.

Two minutes later, when her phone rang yet a third time, she resigned herself to the fate of not getting any more sleep. "Mmmemma Skyyy… whatdyawant?"

"Guten Tag, fräulein Skye! Or should I say 'Guten Morgen'?"

"mmmrgl…" Ema grumbled, forcing herself to sit up. "_What_ do you _want_ glimmer?"

"Guten Morgen it is," Klavier decided.

"Look, can I go back to my apartment now?" She asked, none to pleased.

"No," Klavier said. "I still have some… ah… analyses to do. And, for that matter, don't go back to work either."

Ema blinked, suddenly jolted awake. "What, you're _firing_ me?!"

"Nein nein!" She could have strangled him over the phone when she heard his idiotic laughter. "I meant to say, don't go back until I tell you to."

Ema sighed with both relief and frustration. "Wait… so… you're saying I should just stay at home?"

"Ja, for now," the thoughtful voice on the other end of the phone agreed.

Ema thought about this for a couple moments before a satisfied smirk spread across her lips. "Stay home and sleep in? Got it!"

Before he could protest or offer another comment that was certain to be annoying, she hung up.

She waited for a few seconds, squinting at the cell phone as if daring it to ring again. When it didn't, she flopped back onto the bed with a contented sigh and promptly fell back asleep.

* * *

_Day 72_

_Time: 2:00 PM_

_Location: The apartment_

_Mood: Baffled_

It would be two days before she heard a terse message from Klavier Gavin again, informing her that she could go back to her apartment. Upon returning, she could have sworn that he hadn't even touched a thing.

"What I wouldn't give for my jar of fingerprinting powder…" she murmured, remembering that fateful day it had spilled on the sidewalk. Incidentally, it had also been the day she met Klavier. With a grumble, she mentally threw the prosecutor from her mind and left to finish out the work-day.

The police department had also seemed to have forgotten about her. Indeed, Gumshoe had already placed evidence of this in her cubicle, on top of her papers.

"Gumshoe, why is there a large potted plant on my desk?" Ema asked crossly.

"I thought the office needed a little greenery, you know?" Gumshoe explained, chuckling to himself. "They're always saying we need to 'think green.'"

Deciding that she was right long ago (she really was working with a moron,) Ema hefted the plant off her desk and onto the floor in between their cubicles. "Well fine, but we can 'go green' somewhere that isn't my desk."

She spent the remainder of the day filling out boring forms that she hadn't had the chance to complete before. Everything seemed back to normal. All except one small detail.

For the first time since she had started work at the Los Angeles Police Department, Klavier didn't stop by to say hello.

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

That's it. She's officially done with Kristoph Gavin. (Go ahead and cheer, you know you want to.)

But! What did Klavier find in Ema's apartment? And for that matter, why did he suddenly become distant? Who knows!

Next chapter will feature more of our favorite scientific detective struggling with her prosecutor woes.

As always, send along your love/hate/whathaveyou! =)


	16. Day 75: Prosecutor Woes

_April 28 - Day: 75_

_Time: 9:00 AM_

_Location: LAPD_

_Mood: Drained_

Ema decided that she disliked filling out forms. For three solid days, she hadn't received a single assignment. Instead, she was forced to stay at the department and fill out paperwork for other detectives that were out on the job. Though Gumshoe assured her that it got better after a while, she seriously doubted it.

She vaguely wondered why nobody ever bothered to fill out forms for _her_.

Ema sighed, placing her pen down and cupping her chin in the palm of her hand while she stared at the office phone. A few days ago she had dreaded every time it rang. Now she almost missed it.

Impulsively, she pressed her hands into the edge of her desk and stood up. "I'm going to lunch!"

"At 9 AM?" Gumshoe peered out from behind the leafy plant that separated their cubicles, clearly confused.

"Y-yes. I woke up early this morning. You know. Metabolism, and all that," Ema waved her hand in the air and walked away.

Though she was determined to walk through the front door, the door was equally determined to stop her. As she jumped in front of it from the side hallway, reaching for the handle, it swung forward into her head.

Ema reeled back, cursing at herself for foolishly forgetting that people actually _used_ that door.

"Ms. Skye? Are you all right?"

The voice was dreadfully familiar. When the man the voice belonged to kneeled down next to her, his magenta suit, flowing white cravat, and perfectly combed silver hair coming clearly into view, a slight flush rose to Ema's cheeks. "Mr. Edgeworth! Yes, I'm ok, I'm sorry, I didn't see you coming!" She stammered, forcing herself to stand up.

"Nor did I," he replied, looking truly apologetic as he rose back to his feet. He considered the situation for a moment before questioning, "May I ask why you were in such a hurry?"

Sheepishly, Ema admitted, "lunch." Feeling awkward, she added, "Do you want to come too?"

Edgeworth appeared surprised, and Ema immediately regretted asking the question. He probably came to the police department for a reason. She knew Edgeworth was a busy man, and besides, _why_ would he want to eat lunch at 9 AM anyway?

"Sure," he replied, startling her. "If you'll allow me two minutes, I need to discuss something with detective Gumshoe."

Ema nodded in consent, waiting in the front of the station while pondering just how he could have any sort of conversation at all in a two minute timeframe.

True to his word, Edgeworth returned exactly two minutes later.

"That's settled," he said in response to her questioning glance. "Now then, where did you have in mind?"

"I guess I hadn't really thought that far ahead… maybe just the café two blocks north of here?" Ema said, thinking of the place she occasionally frequented with Lana.

Edgeworth nodded, pushing the door open and holding it for her. "That's fine."

She murmured a quiet thank-you as she passed through the door and lead the way down the street.

The sun peeked out from behind a few stray cumulus clouds in the eastern sky, lending a warmth to the relatively cool April day. It was perfect weather for a walk, Ema noted. Even the sidewalks were clear. Most people were working at this hour, and Ema suspected that very few took their lunch quite this early.

"You haven't let him go yet, have you?" Edgeworth's voice was only loud enough for Ema to hear. When she turned to him, his gaze was calm.

She should have expected no less from Miles Edgeworth. He was always straight forward and to the point. But, even armed with this knowledge, his sudden question startled her. "I… well…"

Though she hadn't responded entirely, she heard him utter a low "hmm." He was silent for a few moments, and Ema assumed some complicated thought process was going on inside his brooding head.

Unable to take his silent scrutiny anymore, she stammered a response, "Yes, yes I'm done with him."

"Are you." Though he had phrased it like a question, his tone of voice was unmistakably a statement.

Slightly perturbed, Ema pressed forward, "Yes, I am. I broke up with him six days ago!"

"During your visit," he remarked. As was often the case with Edgeworth, she couldn't really tell what he was thinking, feeling, or anything. Was he mocking her? Was he concerned? Was he just inquiring in a friendly yet fatherly way?

Who knew!

She turned to face him as they walked, noticing that his eyes were also resting lightly on her. It was then that she noticed the daytime sunlight highlighting the features of a look she was all too familiar with.

The prosecutor look. That's what it was.

When would her prosecutor woes ever end?!

"You've got that look," Ema sighed, looking away with disdain.

"Hmm?" Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him glancing curiously at her.

"Like you're about to point out a contradiction in what I said," she said, tossing her hand in the air as she spoke. "_The_ _prosecutor look_."

Edgeworth chuckled, pushing open the door to the quaint little café and holding it for her. "I wasn't aware there was a name for it."

Ema tried her best to focus on exactly what she was doing in the café instead of the impending contradiction Edgeworth would point out. Maybe the shit did have to hit the fan, but at least she didn't have to think about it. Yet.

She walked through the door, glanced at the menu on the wall, ordered a Coke and chicken sandwich, paid, took her number, found a table, sat down, placed her number in the small number holder at the table, and waited for Edgeworth to do the same.

The process of ordering her simple lunch was much more complex when she stopped to think about it.

A minute later, Edgeworth had sat down across from her, placing his lunch number in the card holder next to hers.

She looked at him expectantly, realizing that she couldn't put off the inevitable any longer. "Go ahead, Mr. Edgeworth. Say it."

Edgeworth didn't point his finger as he customarily did, nor did he sound the least bit snide. He faced her this time not with his prosecutor look but with a countenance that was far more gentle, almost sympathetic. "You're still wearing his necklace."

Her breath caught in her throat. Ema dared not reach up and touch the silver heart necklace, though it burned and weighed heavily around her neck. Compared to the pain Kristoph's necklace suddenly brought on her, she was certain that little hobbit had it easy.

"Don't you think it's about time you took it off?" Edgeworth coaxed her quietly. Lowering the volume of his voice must have been his way of trying to sound gentle and kind. It sort of worked, she supposed.

Ema swallowed hard, feeling small tremors run through her arm into her hand as she reached for the silver chain. "I…" she supposed it really _was_ time to take it off. Why hadn't she before? And for that matter, why was it still so difficult now?

"Five days ago, you told Wright and I that you wouldn't let Kristoph Gavin ruin your life anymore," Edgeworth persisted, likely after seeing her hesitation. "Continuing to wear that necklace is proof that you are willing to let him do just that."

"You're right," Ema sighed, realizing that he really _was_ right. She reached up to the back of her neck, feeling for the clasp.

It came undone easily, and then it was resting in a loose silver heap in the palm of her hand. She looked up at Edgeworth, a small smile on her lips. "Well that was eas—"

"Chicken sandwich!" The waiter cried, setting the dish in front of her.

"Tuna sandwich, rye, extra lettuce, extra tomato, no mayo, no cheese, toasted!" The waiter cried again, placing the dish in front of Edgeworth.

Their lunch numbers were quickly snatched from the card holder, leaving them slightly startled. Ema nearly forgot about the necklace in her hand. Absently, she tossed it into her purse, feeling more free than she had felt in a very long time.

Edgeworth looked only slightly less perplexed. Assuming he was still puzzled about the waiter, she smiled apologetically and laughed, "I should have warned you, they're like that here."

"Very enthusiastic," he agreed, though for some reason he still appeared somewhat unsettled.

Ema chalked it up to Edgeworth being Edgeworth. He was always a little broody and intense, and after everything he had gone through, she really couldn't blame him.

The remainder of their lunch was nothing out of the usual. When they finished their food, Edgeworth walked Ema back to the police station, offering a farewell before leaving again.

The Ema Skye who had left the police department was sad, dejected, and perhaps even a little depressed with her current situation. The Ema Skye who returned couldn't be happier.

That was, until she saw her desk. And the guitar strumming fop who was currently sitting on top of it. "Fräulein Skye!" he exclaimed in a cheerful greeting.

Though usually the mere sight of him upset her, she found herself feeling a little relieved that he was sitting there. "You could really stand to lose the guitar though."

"What?" He asked, leaning forward with a smile as he strummed a chord on his hollow wooden guitar. (Ema would later learn that this was an "acoustic" guitar, but what did she care, really?)

"Nothing," she shook her head, waving the thought aside. It had been so long since he last visited. It seemed strange to see him again… sitting on her things… she frowned at the thought of him wrinkling all of her papers. Grabbing him by the chain of his gaudy necklace, she yanked him off the desk. "Are we going to another crime scene?"

"Ach! Fräulein Skye ist sehr kraftvoll!" he whined, holding the neck of his guitar with one hand while he rubbed his own neck with the other.

"English, glimmer," she said flatly.

"Forceful," he translated helpfully. "You're very forceful."

"You have to be to get anything done around here," she responded crossly, tidying up a few papers that Klavier had messed out of order. "Speaking of which, are we going to a crime scene?"

"Ja," he said, his Mr. Charming smile reappearing, a warning that he was up to no good. "But first, I want to show you something."

* * *

_Time: 10:30 AM _

_Location: People Park_

_Mood: Content_

Ema was content to walk through the peaceful park once again with Klavier. It definitely beat filling out papers. The walk was also a nice alternative to dealing with often gory crime scenes and chasing down half-mad witnesses.

Klavier had left his deathcycle parked outside the park without a care in the world. It almost seemed like he was daring people to take it away.

Unfortunately, he chose not to leave his guitar with the motorcycle. Klavier continued to strum bits and pieces of songs on his guitar, the soft plucking sounds not entirely unpleasant this time. It was certainly better than the horrible racket that huge amplifier made in his office.

"So what, are you going to serenade me now?" Ema glance in his direction, a smirk on her lips, "or is there actually a reason you brought me here?"

"Can't I just bring you here for fun?" he asked with a charmingly boyish grin.

"Fun?" Ema laughed, "Oh, Mr. Prosecutor, there are _so_ many things I could object to!"

He strummed a few fast chords on his guitar, ending on one that had a James Bond-ish feel to it, as if egging her on. "Object away."

"Ok. First, we should be _working right now_," Ema began, hearing him play a defeated sounding chord along with her first accusation.

"Second, last time you brought me here to tell me that _you_ were the prosecutor responsible for taking away Mr. Wright's attorney's badge," she continued, followed by an even lower sounding chord from Klavier.

"Not to mention, that after said confession, I _pushed you into a bush_," Ema pointed out, again accompanied by yet a deeper pitched and defeated sounding chord.

"_And_, you never got all the leaves out of your hair that day," she finished, pointing at him just as he was about to play another chord of his guitar, "and would you cut that out?!"

The blonde haired prosecutor didn't respond immediately. Instead, he paused in what looked like exactly the same place they had stopped to converse two months ago. Secluded in the back of the park, away from all of his fangirls, she could almost imagine a kind soul inside that supercilious rockstar body.

"Heh," Klavier held the neck of his guitar loosely in one hand, letting the full weight rest on the guitar strap over his shoulder and across his back. Idly, he toyed with the golden wisps of hair in front of his face. Finally, he gave his response, "it adds a nice dramatic effect."

Ema blinked, then realized he was talking about his guitar. Aggravated, she pressed her hands into his chest, ready to shove him back into what looked like the very same bush he had imposed on before.

"Warten, fräulein Skye!" This time, Klavier's eyes widened, and he quickly held up his hands defensively before she could push him backwards.

He seemed genuinely concerned. Ema sighed, releasing the lapels of his jacket. She was certain that she was letting him off too easy, as usual. "English," she reminded him.

"Sorry," he apologized, "but I _do_ have something to show you. A family that wouldn't appreciate me falling into their home."

Instantly, Ema imagined a dirty family of refugees barely covered with meager scraps of soiled linen. "Klavier! How could you do something like that to a poor family of…"

Ema's words trailed off as Klavier carefully lifted an evergreen branch to reveal the "family."

"…baby birds. You found a nest of baby birds…" she shook her head, coming closer and kneeling beside the nest despite herself. "You really _are_ one with nature, aren't you?"

"Hardly," the prosecutor laughed lightly at her question, holding the branch steady so that she could take a better look.

The tiny birds were still too young to cheep, though they did wiggle at the offending cool breeze, burying themselves in the soft baby down of their siblings. Ema wanted to reach into the nest and touch their soft downy fluff, but she recalled, with a heavy heart, that if she did, their mother would likely abandon them. Knowing better than to touch baby birds, Ema remained content to rest her soft gaze on the tiny creatures, finding that once again, Klavier had found a way to melt her heart.

The tone of his voice took on a more gentle sound as he carefully replaced the branch, hiding the birds again from view. "Fräulein Skye, I also brought you here because I wanted you to know that everything is done. There are no longer any suspicions of you illegally aiding Kristoph."

Ema stood again, sighing in relief, "Oh thank _goodness_ that is over!" She was about to thank him, but then a peculiar thought struck her. "But wait… there was never a trial or anything…"

"Settled outside of court," Klavier offered his terse response, readjusting his guitar so that he could play it again. He began walking along, leading her along the pathway while he played a melody lightly. It really was a wonder that they didn't attract the attention of his fans.

Ema decided to let the matter drop, since he didn't seem eager to discuss it, but before she did, she touched the edge of his jacket, lightly pulling him around to face her. With what was probably the most genuine smile she had given anyone in a while, she said, "Thanks, Klavier. You really did get me out of a lot of trouble."

Klavier smiled in a charming yet slightly less annoying way. The light streamed through the leaves of the trees overhead, highlighting the golden strands of his hair in an almost ethereal way. When he leaned closer to her, she could smell the light scent of his cologne, and feel the warmth of his breath against her cheek as he murmured back, "you're welcome."

Ema felt an embarrassed flush coming on. Something made her want to continue living this moment forever, yet at the same time, the awkwardness of the situation urged her otherwise.

She forced her feet to move, feeling as though she were dancing out from underneath the piercing gaze of his glimmerous blue eyes. Glimmerous. That's right. That's what he was. "Why don't you play something, glimmer-boy? Isn't that why you brought your guitar along anyway?" She asked, falling back on the one emotion that she knew would never lead her astray.

Her annoyance at the glimmerous fop called Klavier Gavin.

Klavier was back to his Mr. Charming smile, all too eager to indulge her with a soft melody that was actually a little pretty. That is, until she heard the words.

"Sugar, sugar?" Ema questioned, frowning distastefully. "Who _wrote_ those lyrics?"

Klavier pouted, seeming hurt by her question, "I did. What, you don't like them?"

Suddenly she felt caught off guard. Who was this sensitive man suddenly standing in front of her, and what had he done with Klavier Gavin?

Before she could answer his question, Klavier grinned, showing her that he really wasn't as hurt as he seemed and fueling her anger towards him just a bit more. "You should hear Lamiroir sing it. Her voice will make you forget that the lyrics even exist."

Ema wasn't sure if that was a compliment to the singer or not, but she knew one thing for certain. "You're insinuating that I go to one of your concerts, aren't you? Well the answer is no."

"July 9, Lamiroir will be here to sing 'The Guitar's Serenade.' You won't be disappointed," he promised.

"Oh, if it sounds anything like the usual racket you make in your office, I beg to differ," Ema grumbled. Determinedly, she searched for distractions as they walked, something that would make Klavier forget about inviting her to his concert.

As they rounded the corner to the front of the park, the perfect distraction presented itself: a gaudily decorated noodle stand, proudly displaying a bright red banner labeled "ELDOON." It hadn't been the first time Ema had seen the stand before, but it was the first time she had noticed this particular error.

"He spelled 'noodle' backwards," she pointed out, tilting her eyebrow with puzzlement.

"Ja, so it would seem," Klavier agreed. "I don't suppose you want lunch?"

Distraction: success.

Ema was still stuffed from 'lunch' with Edgeworth earlier, and she didn't feel like explaining the particulars of her bizarre morning to Klavier. Instead, she continued to walk by the stand, merely offering "too salty for me" as a response.

She wondered if Klavier would remember her instant noodle habit, but if he did, he kept it to himself.

Before long, they were standing in front of Klavier's deathcycle again. "Well, are you ready to go to the crime scene, fräulein Skye?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Ema sighed grimly, steeling herself against the impending terrifying ride.

Despite the drama that always occurred whenever Klavier brought her here, Ema was somehow looking forward to the next time they visited the park.

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

I don't have much to say about this chapter, other than the fact that you might find missing 'h's here and there. My computer is having issues, sadly.

Next chapter will go a couple months into the future. Will Klavier and Ema have their first real date?

Please review! It makes me happy! =)


	17. Day 120: Dinner Date

_June 15 – Day 120_

_Time: 5:00 AM_

_Location: LAPD_

_Weight: 136 lbs._

_Mood: Extremely touchy_

Why. _Why_ did people have to commit crimes so early in the morning?

Ema growled as Gumshoe gave her the bad news. "Thanks. I'm really not looking forward to this." She grumbled, gulping down half a cup of her hot coffee. Not that it would work anyway.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I'm glad I don't have to go there," Gumshoe agreed, shaking his head. "People Park is across the street from the _Kitaki's_ place. They're the most renowned mob family in the city. I wouldn't want to be caught dead in there!"

"Gumshoe, did anyone ever tell you not to give pep-talks?" Ema grumbled back.

"Uh… well, maybe Mr. Edgeworth said something like that a long time ago…"

"Well he was right. Don't. Ever." Ema held her hand to her head, attempting to ward away the headache that she knew would build soon. As soon as…

"Guten morgen, fräulein detective!"

There it was. The beginnings of a migraine.

"What do you _want_ glimmer-boy?" she groaned, swiveling around to face the ever smiling fop. "I've got a crime scene to investigate, you know."

"Oh I know. I'm the one who requested you for this case," Klavier's Mr. Charming smile wouldn't work on her. Especially when his hand was reaching for…

"Hands off the snackoos!" Ema cried, pulling out a pair of handcuffs, locking one end around his wrist and the other to her desk.

"Ach! Fräulein Skye, you're going to leave chaff marks!" he whined, pouting at her in what he probably hoped was a cute way.

It wasn't. At least, not to _her_ it wasn't. "I carry around two spare pairs of handcuffs everywhere I go." She informed him, grabbing her bag of snackoos and munching on them in front of him.

"Yes, I know. I told you to do that after that incident a month ago," glimmer-boy continued to complain. "But I didn't tell you to use them on _me_."

Ema shrugged, "you reap what you sow, right?"

"This looks _so_ uncool," he frowned, tugging uselessly at the cuffs.

"Really?" Ema raised an eyebrow, happy to let this conversation go on as long as it could. "I bet you have fans that think otherwise."

"I beg your pardon?" he asked in an unusually polite manner, throwing Ema off momentarily. He must have been learning intelligent speech from talking to Edgeworth more, she decided.

"I _mean_, you probably have fans who think that's hot," she clarified, tapping the handcuffs playfully.

"Oh?" Klavier paused, that short pause alerting Ema that he was about to say something that wouldn't please her. "Do _you_ think it's hot?"

She was not pleased. "No!" Ema exclaimed, munching faster and louder on her snackoos.

"Fräulein Skye," he ventured, "do you really think it's healthy to eat so many snackoos?"

"My ex-boyfriend was a _murderer_, despite you clearing my name, people are _still_ suspicious that _I_ was passing police info to him under the table, and I work for a glimmerous fop," she argued, polishing off three more snackoos in little to no time, "A girl like me deserves these snackoos!"

He couldn't argue with that. Well, actually he probably could, but he didn't. Instead, he only pointed out, "the crime scene, fräulein detective. We have to go there."

Ema sighed. She knew this was coming. Disheartened, she pulled out a small key-ring from her purse, freeing her boss from his chaffing confines. Tucking her handcuffs back away into her purse, she grabbed her coffee and sighed, "let's go then."

* * *

_Time: 5:30 AM_

_Location: People Park_

_Mood: Still Touchy_

"The noodle stand?" Ema gaped as they entered the park. It was truly a gruesome sight. A man, (not the owner, to her knowledge) was slumped over the front bar, looking as if he was still struggling to pull the noodle stand _somewhere_. His corpse looked defeated, the blood dripping from a close-contact gunshot wound.

Ema frowned in disgust. After sufficient pictures of the scene had been taken and recorded, she sent the body to the lab for an autopsy report, telling Meekins (who happened to be one of her subordinates today, lucky her) to find a replacement. Meekins returned with a scarecrow, which he proudly placed where the poor dead man had been standing.

Wocky Kitaki had already been apprehended before they arrived, as he was the key suspect in the murder.

Great. Not only was this an early morning, but the very mob family that Gumshoe had warned her against was involved. Just great.

Meanwhile, Klavier had scarcely done a thing at the crime scene, other than entertain his fangirls, that is. They really would rise at all hours to see him, much to Ema's dismay.

Several times already, their precious crime scenes had been tainted by careless fans. When Ema realized that this may happen again, she grasped the glimmerous fop by his blindingly bright chain necklace and dragged him outside of the park. His fans happily followed.

Despite several squealing protests, she angrily set up a police barrier around the entire park so that no wandering fans could stroll into her crime scene again.

After all of this was settled, the only thing she could do was sit and wait. It wasn't like she was allowed to do any research herself. Even though… the forensics kit she had bought for herself as a feel-better gift had arrived just that morning… _and_ she had even brought it along with her…

"No, no no, what am I thinking? I can't use my forensics supplies," Ema sighed, "That's not what I was hired to do. If I try to make it my job, I'll probably lose the one I have now…"

Disgruntled with life itself, Ema pulled out a bag of snackoos and started to munch.

* * *

_Time: 12:00 noon_

_Location: People Park_

_Mood: moody._

Already Ema had repelled a few wandering fans/observers, and Klavier wasn't even here! He was probably out dazzling the eyes of passersby on the way to the detention center with his shiny silver chains.

She decided to observe the rest of the park a bit, partially to search for other clues, but mostly just to get the current case off her mind. As she wandered to the shaded back area of the park, she suddenly wondered what had happened to that family of birds.

Carefully, Ema found the right bush and peeled aside the outermost branch…

An empty nest greeted her.

Something about the sight made her slightly happy, even though she was saddened. "You grew up and flew away. Maybe someday I will too."

As she walked slowly back to her post, Ema's thoughts lingered on the birds and just how unglimmerous Klavier had been when he showed them to her. And the bunnies.

Klavier seemed different now, even _more_ showy than ever before (if that was possible.) Of course, that left _her_ even more upset with him. More glimmerous attitude brought more fans. More fans made more of a mess at her crime scenes. More of a mess at her crime scenes made more work for Ema. More work for Ema made her angrier at Klavier, which prompted him to be even more of a dramatic fop.

It was a vicious cycle, really.

As she rounded the corner back to the front of the park, she detected voices. Voices that didn't belong to any of the policemen assigned to the scene. From the distance, she could see that one of the observers wore a strange red vest and pants while the other boasted a peculiar blue top hat and cape.

Great. _Crazy_ fans.

Rolling up her sleeves, Ema prepared to kick out another set of glimmer-boy's admirers.

* * *

_Time: 4:25 PM_

_Location: People Park_

_Mood: Intrigued_

Ema knew Phoenix had a daughter, but she never actually met the girl. She recalled him briefly showing her a small picture on his cell phone, but Ema had long forgotten what that looked like. As she thought about Trucy, she could just _barely… maybe… _see the family resemblance…?

No. They really didn't look anything alike, aside from their brown hair. And even then, Phoenix's was dark and coarse, while Trucy's seemed light and soft.

Trucy had to be adopted. Either that, or this girl _and_ Phoenix were lying to her.

While the puzzlement of why Phoenix would adopt a daughter filled her brain, she was also having a difficult time digesting the other person who had helped her dust for fingerprints earlier.

Apollo Justice. She hadn't seen more than the back of his head during the boy's first court case, and somehow hadn't put two and two together when she met him again today. Kristoph's former apprentice was now working (and from the looks of it, _living_) with the Wrights.

It was a small and strange world indeed.

As a certain over zealous prosecutor came into view, she decided that it was far too small. "Fräulein Skye! Did you speak with Herr Forehead and the Fraulein?"

Ema didn't answer him immediately, because she didn't exactly know who he was talking about. After a moment, she asked, "you mean Apollo Justice and Trucy Wright?"

"You were good to them, ja?" he continued to ask, all smiles.

"Ja!" she mimicked his annoying made-up word back to him. Ema folded her arms across her chest and continued smugly, "but you know they are the defense in tomorrow's trial, right?"

Klavier shrugged, "It was worth the risk for the beautiful Fraulein."

"You!... are such a pig!" Ema growled, ready to shove him into yet another park bush. "She can't be older than 15!"

The prosecutor's eyes widened and he danced quickly away, "Nein nein! Not again!"

Ema sighed, "if you even _dare_ try to show me another cute little forest creature…"

At that very moment, a deer strolled across the pathway behind Klavier. It turned its majestic gaze to Ema for just a moment, seeming like it was trying to convey a century's worth of infallible knowledge, then walked into the trees on the other side of the park.

Unfortunately, Klavier hadn't the slightest idea. "Nein, I just don't want you messing up another of my suits."

"I am _so_ done with this park, and this city," Ema grumbled underneath her breath, pulling out her bag of snackoos once again.

To her surprise, though it really shouldn't have been anymore, Klavier pulled the bag out of her hands.

"What the…!" She glared daggers at him, reaching for the bag, which he teasingly kept away from her. "Give those back!"

"It's not snack-time anymore," he mused, shifting the bag from one hand to the other, then holding it high over her head. "It's dinnertime."

"_You…_ what, dinner?" Ema suddenly stopped reaching for the bag, a little surprised. If Klavier was suggesting what she thought he was suggesting, then this would be a first. They had shared breakfast and lunch on several occasions already, but dinner…

He smiled, as if to confirm her thoughts, "care to come? I know a great place."

Ema was skeptical. This wasn't the first time she had heard this line before. No, in fact, the day after she had met Klavier, he had used the very same line before scaring her to death with his crazy German deathcycle driving.

Then again… she _was_ hungry…

"All right, fine," Ema sighed, ready to be done with the crime scene for the day anyway. "But only if you pay."

"How could I not, fräulein Skye?" Klavier smiled his stupid glimmerous Mr. Charming smile and lead the way to his deathcycle.

Ema was slightly perturbed, and it wasn't solely due to another upcoming ride on Klavier's motorcycle. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she faintly remembered something… it was something Kristoph had told her long ago… some sort of warning…

Like usual, she forgot about the matter entirely after a few minutes.

* * *

_Time: 5:50 PM_

_Location: Back at the apartment_

_Mood: Anxious_

When she had seen the place Klavier wanted to take her, Ema had insisted that he take her home immediately first so that she could find different clothes. There was _no way_ she was going to wear her typical work clothes there!

Now, she was left with a different sort of dilemma. What _should _she wear? Glimmer-boy was always dressed for the occasion, but she could hardly say that her labcoat, green vest, and brown Capri pants were appropriate for a nicer restaurant.

Of course, she had plenty of elegant clothing. Kristoph had bought her many gifts, after all. Several modest yet fashionable dresses still hung in her closet.

All gifts from her murderous ex-boyfriend.

Ema sighed and grumbled in frustration, sliding the closet door shut. She couldn't wear any of those. So… what _could_ she wear?

Two minutes later, Lana found Ema standing outside her door.

"Ema, what a surprise! Come in," Lana smiled warmly, welcoming her into her home. "What brings you here?"

Ema wasn't surprised that Lana knew she needed something. Her sister had always had that magical ability to read her like an open book. "I need something to wear."

Lana furrowed her thinly shaped eyebrows, giving Ema a perplexed look, "Whatever for?"

"Dinner at the Gilded Truffle," Ema explained helplessly.

Lana's eyes widened slightly, "Klavier is taking you _there_?"

It was Ema's turn to be surprised, "How did you know I was going with Klavier?"

"Who else would it be?" Lana asked, taking her sister's hand and leading her back into the guest bedroom. She pulled open her closet, perusing her options. "I still have these from when I was about your size, but it might be difficult to find one appropriate for today's society."

Ema laughed, not surprised that Lana would hold onto even the oldest dresses. She pulled a brown leather dress that proudly boasted long fringes and a large belt patterned with cowboy hats. "Tacky, tacky! How did you ever wear this?"

"Do you remember Jake Marshall?" Lana sighed, taking the dress from Ema and shoving it back into the closet.

"Yes," Ema nodded, recalling that her sister had been close to Jake some time ago. After Lana's trial, Jake had been sentenced to a few years in prison, but he served his sentence without regrets. Even though they were now both free people again, Ema hadn't seen much of Jake Marshall. She could only assume that whatever spark had existed between them before was now gone.

"Then I don't need to say any more," her older sister pursed her lips distastefully, confirming Ema's suspicions, and continued to rummage through her options. Finally, she pulled out one with a satisfied smile, "I think this might do. Try it on."

Eagerly, Ema changed into the dress, then stood by the floor length mirror in Lana's guest bedroom. She pivoted with a happy smile, making sure that all angles of the dress looked nice. "This is perfect, Lana! I think I even have shoes that will match."

The dress was a simple crème-colored white that came down to just above her knees. Inch-thick shoulder straps and a neckline that only dipped to a modest location pleased Ema. A pink-champagne colored ribbon circled the waist-line and garnished the bottom hem of the dress.

Simple. Elegant. It couldn't possibly give glimmer-boy the wrong idea.

They returned to Ema's apartment to find what were indeed perfectly matching shoes. It was then that the younger Skye sister hesitantly broached the topic, "Lana, do you think…"

"Klavier is not his older brother," Lana answered before she could finish the question. How did she _do_ that?! "Don't get me wrong, he's far from perfect, but in today's day and age, when will you ever find the absolute perfect guy?"

"I thought I _had_ found him," Ema murmured quietly. "Even though everyone tried to warn me, I still fell for Kristoph."

"You were blinded by love, Ema," Lana said, throwing her younger sister a quick but sympathetic gaze. "It happens sometimes."

Ema seemed to recall Phoenix saying something similar to her not long ago. If both of the people who had influenced her life the most were telling her the same thing, there had to be some truth to it, right? "Lana, do you think…"

"Klavier is not his older brother," she said simply again. "I've heard you call him 'glimmerous' before, and I can see why. He's a rock-star prosecutor and the heartthrob idol of most women in a 1000 mile radius."

"Are you going to tell me he's a womanizer?" the younger Skye asked, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt with concern. "Because I could see it."

Lana seemed to consider this for a few moments, pausing as she gathered materials to help Ema with her hair. "I don't know him well enough to say, but if you seem to think so, then you know what to do."

Ema grinned, remembering her sister's lesson from years back, "kick him where it hurts if he tries anything!"

"You got it!" Lana laughed, tousling her sister's hair. Ema smiled; she had always loved it when Lana fixed her hair. It was yet another reminder that she had her happy older sister back again.

By the time her hair was done, Klavier was already knocking on the door.

"Fraulein Skye? Are you ever going to be ready?" he inquired playfully through the door.

"Can it, glimmer! I'll be there in a minute!" Ema shouted through the door, hearing him wistfully sigh _something_ in his nonsense language.

"I'll get it, you finish up here," Lana said, draping one of Ema's simple golden necklaces around her neck.

Ema took the opportunity to pull on her crème colored high heeled sandals, half-listening as Klavier and Lana chatted about the restaurant. She touched the doorknob, and for some reason paused.

What was this sense of trepidation she was feeling? It was only glimmer-boy out there! Why was she so anxious?

Putting her silly fears aside, she threw open the door and stepped outside.

"I hear they are known for their lobster," Lana commented.

"And tacos," Klavier added. His eyes flickered over to Ema, smiling charmingly and holding out his hand when he saw her. "Fraulein Skye, sie schönen abend."

Ema was beginning to wonder if this was all a very bad idea, but an encouraging smile from Lana was enough to urge her into grabbing her purse and taking his hand. "English, glimmer," she reminded him through gritted teeth.

Klavier laughed, pulling her through the door, "Yes, you're right! Now, are you ready to go?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she sighed, ignoring the fact that glimmer-boy had avoided translating for her. She waited for Lana to exit the apartment before she locked her door.

"Have fun tonight, you two," Lana smiled and waved as they walked away.

As they walked down the stairs, Ema focused most of her attention on not tripping and falling in her shoes. She had the distinct impression that the thin high heels were mocking her.

"Klavier!" she exclaimed as they reached the bottom of the staircase. A terrible thought had suddenly struck her. It was so horrible that she might consider skipping this free dinner. "You don't expect me to ride on your deathcycle wearing _this_ do you?"

The blonde haired prosecutor smiled and simply shook his head. When he opened the door for her, revealing the awaiting limousine, she felt angered and relieved at the same time. At least he had more than one glimmerous mode of travel.

Ema sat in the corner-most black leather seat in the back, already feeling awkward.

"What's wrong, fräulein Skye?" Klavier asked, gliding along the seats until he sat next to her.

Ema shifted, "I don't know… limousines aren't my usual mode of travel." It was true. In fact, she couldn't even remember the last time she had ridden in one.

"You prefer my hog, don't you?" Klavier asked in what Ema could only suppose was a coy way.

"Your _what?!!_" Ema's eyes widened, and instinctively, she slapped him across the face. She realized moments later, with regret, that her hand stung something awful, but damn if it wasn't worth it.

"Autsch! Sie sind wie eine wütende Frau!" Klavier winced, rubbing his now reddening cheek with a hand.

She could only assume he was upset. "Well _you're_ the one being perverse!"

"A _hog_ is another name for a _motorcycle_, fräulein Skye," he informed her, regaining some of his composure though he still continued to pout. It was actually almost cute.

What? Cute? No! Not cute! Moronic. Unsophisticated. Something… but definitely _not_ cute.

But… perhaps she had passed her judgment on him a bit prematurely. She noticed that his face was still red where she had slapped him and swallowed, feeling just a _teeny bit_ guilty.

"…you could have just said your _deathcycle_, then I'd have known," Ema muttered, slouching down into the cushy seat. Her eyes wandered out the window, away from Klavier.

The area looked familiar, but then again, all of the city streets seemed the same to her after a while, especially at night. They boasted gaudy neon lights advertising the local pub and their preferred brands of draft, ethnic carry-outs joined with ethnic dry-cleaners, and (of course) the least desired of people that lingered near the street corners.

The city at its finest.

As they pulled up to The Gilded Truffle, Ema could have sworn that they hadn't left the dumpy part of town yet.

Police cars and caution tape surrounded the restaurant. Ema could already see that some of her lackeys were making a mess of things.

They both sighed as they got out of the limo, prepared to go back to work whether they liked it or not. "It looks like dinner will have to wait," she sighed listlessly.

Klavier turned an unfathomable gaze to Ema, holding his hands out to his sides helplessly. "Need I say that dinner wouldn't have had to wait if you hadn't insisted on changing clothes?"

She almost slapped him again. "Klavier, _we _would probably be suspects in whatever is going on in there if we were here!"

"Your spirit is back!" He smirked, holding out a hand to her. "Does that mean you are ready to investigate?"

Ema took a long and deep breath, then took his hand and followed him into the restaurant. "As ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

_Time: 2:00 AM_

_Location: Klavier's Limo_

_Mood: delicious food!_

McDonald's hamburgers never tasted so good.

Ema crumpled her second wrapper with a satisfied smile and tossed it back into the paper bag. "Delicious, thanks."

"I know it wasn't the Guilded Truffle, but the cooks didn't seem willing to make anything else after what happened," Klavier said apologetically.

"And I probably wouldn't have eaten anything they made anyway," Ema pointed out, "Isn't one of the cooks our prime suspect?"

"Yes, but the others…"

The limo stopped in front of her apartment, and Ema cut glimmer-boy off. "Look, I'm fine with the burgers. Trust me, they're just as good right now. I haven't eaten a real meal in over 12 hours."

Ema was tired, so tired that she really could have fallen asleep in the limo if she wasn't eating burgers. She reached for the door, ready to get up and leave, but Klavier caught her hand, pulling her back into her seat.

"Ema," when he breathed her name, Klavier's voice actually made him sound like he could be the amazing singer that everyone seemed to think he was. His dazzling blue eyes were captivating, and for once, he didn't lend off the air of a completely self-absorbed jerk.

She noticed that he was leaning closer, but this observation didn't have any meaning to her until it was too late. Safely behind the tinted windows of his limousine, Ema felt Klavier's soft lips on her cheek.

Ema was dazed. So dazed that it seemed like only a moment later Klavier had exited the limo and was opening up her door for her, holding out his hand like a perfect gentleman. She accepted it and walked with him up the steps to her new apartment.

Things hadn't seemed more awkward in a very long time. Ready for the strange moment to pass, Ema squeezed his hand and went quickly through the door to her place, offering him a quick, "Thanks Klavier, see you tomorrow I guess, goodbye!"

With her heart racing, she quickly closed the door behind her.

* * *

_Time: 2:15 AM_

_Location: Back at home_

_Mood: SO tired._

_Today was one of the weirdest days I have ever had. In other words, it was a normal day._

_I met Apollo Justice, finally. He seems like a pretty decent guy— Kristoph didn't taint that one. He's investigating one of my crime scenes with Trucy Wright, Phoenix's adopted daughter._

_Trucy is so cheerful that I am envious. Nothing could darken her spirits, not my glares, growling, or even snacking. She really is the perfect companion for Apollo. Although, I can't shake this funny feeling I have about the two of them. They do seem quite similar…_

Ema paused, trying to analyze that strange feeling, and put it into factual words somehow. Though she couldn't decide how Trucy and Apollo were connected, she did find that she felt strange about something entirely different.

_Today, I **almost** had dinner with Klavier at the Guilded Truffle, but a suspicious murder happened there instead. **Why** do people have to commit crimes at all hours of the day?! And why did it have to be during my dinner date?!_

Again, Ema stopped writing, shocked with what she had just placed on the paper.

_Would dinner with him be considered a date? A date with Klavier Gavin himself… ha! As if I really needed his squealing fangirls sending me any more murderous glares than they already do._

_Needless to say, dinner was ruined with work and incompetent lackeys, but even so…_

…_Klavier kissed me tonight._

That's right, he _had_ kissed her, hadn't he?

_I was so tired that I almost didn't notice, and it was just a simple kiss on the cheek, but he's never tried anything like that before. What does this mean? Is he really a flirt, or … is it something else?_

_I'm so confused right now. He's still the same glimmerous boss I've always had, but… something almost seemed different about him tonight. Softer. Like he isn't always a completely arrogant fop. Could he actually care…?_

Almost as soon as she wrote the line, she frowned at herself crossly.

_Of course not._ _Klavier has a million and one fans already. He could easily have a fling with any one of them. Besides, there's absolutely nothing special about me._

Ema sighed and wrote one more line in her journal before tossing it onto the table next to her bed and rolling over.

_After today, I'm calling in tomorrow morning._

That night, her dreams were filled with happy memories of a date that never happened.

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

Klavier and Ema are having it a bit rough, aren't they?

In other news, I've installed a new keyboard into my laptop (all by myself!) so I now have a working "h" key! =)

Want things to move quicker between the two of them? Slower? Let me know!


	18. Day 140: First Concert

_July 6 – Day 140_

_Time: 4:50 PM_

_Mood: 10 minutes… just 10 more minutes…_

Ema Skye was counting minutes. Minutes until her work day was over and she could go home.

She had learned long ago that the last ten minutes was not the time to open up a new casefile. Nor was it time to walk anywhere and risk running into someone who could assign you more work.

No, the last ten minutes was the time when you sat quietly at your desk and _pretended_ to look like you were busily engaged in something.

Today it was perusing ebay.

"All right, done for the day!" Gumshoe announced happily, sticking his head through the leaves of the plant that had grown rather large in between their cubicles. With a happy grin, he continued, "Ebay? It looks like you're done too. And look! We finished a whole ten minutes early!"

Unfortunately, Gumshoe had yet to learn about the ten minute rule.

Ema continued to look at her computer with great focus, but she did growl back, "What do you want, Gumshoe?"

"I was just thinking about that Kitaki case. Boy am I glad that you took that one!" Gumshoe chuckled, much to her annoyance.

"Yeah, it was great cleaning up after that wannabe mobster," she said sarcastically, considering ordering a new jar of fingerprinting powder temporarily before deciding against it.

"Oh, did you hear? Klavier Gavin is having a rock concert tomorrow!" Though Gumshoe continued to chuckle and grin, something did bother Ema.

"A concert? Now that you mention it, his fangirls have been saying something," Ema turned sharply to face Gumshoe, trying to read his thoughts with her mind. It didn't work. "…but why do _you_ know? And what made you think about it all of a sudden?"

"Because I've been reminding you for the last three months," that oh-so-familiar slightly German voice said from behind her. When she spun quickly around to face him, he continued, "You didn't remember? I'm hurt!"

Ema couldn't tell if he was playing with her or if he really meant it. Three weeks earlier, Klavier had kissed her on the cheek. Since then, she had avoided going anywhere with him, especially out to dinner. She had even made up clever excuses not to have breakfast with him, lunch with him, or be anywhere alone with him.

"Would you like to come to my concert?" As Gumshoe began sputtering his enthusiasm, Klavier placed a hand on Ema's desk, leaning over so that his honey-blonde hair dangled just in front of her face. "…fräulein Skye?"

Dispirited, Gumshoe's face disappeared back through the leaves of the plant.

"W-what?" She really shouldn't have been surprised, not after he had not-so-stealthily dropped hints for the last three months. Ema recalled now that he had tried to invite her on several occasions, but she had always brushed him off, changed the subject, or outright ignored him.

Why should this time be any different?

Ema frowned, swatting the intrusive strands of his hair out of her way. "Listen to that horrible noise you call music for a whole four hours? I don't think so. I have better things to do with my evening."

Her eyes flickered to the corner of her computer, checking the time. 4:48. Just two more minutes and she would be free! Free to take the bus home and watch TV with her ramen noodles for the remainder of the night!

"I was afraid you would say that," Klavier's tone of voice made Ema suspicious. Very very suspicious. When he spoke again, she knew that suspicion was well placed. "It looks like I will _need_ you to come along. _Fräulein Detective_."

Oh no. He _didn't_ just…

Klavier pulled something out of his bottomless inner jacket pockets and handed it to her. "Welcome aboard, fräulein detective Skye." With a stupid glimmerous smile, he walked away.

Ema looked at the laminated lanyard he had placed in her hand. On the tag, the Gavinners' logo was proudly displayed, and in the center… "Ema Skye, _**head of security?!!**_" she shrieked, ready to tear the tag in half.

She seethed, knowing that it would likely be the end of her career if she disobeyed. Grudgingly, she threw the pass into her purse, shouting after the disappearing fop. "If you're making me work tomorrow night, then I'm _not_ working in the morning!"

No response.

Ema sighed. Obviously, her ten minute plan had failed today. Miserably.

* * *

_July 7 – Day 141_

_Time: 3:30 PM_

_Location: Backstage - The Gavinner's dressing room_

Unfortunately for Ema, her day started early regardless of her nighttime security duties. Klavier had personally come (again on his deathcycle) at the crack of dawn so that they could both pick up Lamiroir from the airport. Daryan Crescend had even met up with them at the airport to personally greet the Borginians, (which made Ema wonder why they had even bothered to go.)

They sent the singer Lamiroir, her blind piano player Machi, and her gigantic bodyguard Roman LeTouse to the concert site in a limo, but shortly afterwards, the real trouble began.

"Fraulein Skye, do give them back," Klavier said with a tiny joking laugh.

"Give what back?" Ema asked, standing with her hand on her hip next to that horrible motorcycle.

"My keys, you do have them, don't you?" This time, his voice was just a tad less glimmerous than usual. It almost seemed like he was… irritated?

"Nope, I really don't," she said, watching with slight amusement as he patted himself down, looking for his mysteriously disappearing keys.

"How could I… I could have sworn that I left them in my jacket pocket…"

But he hadn't.

And so it was that Ema and Klavier caught a cab to the concert.

Personally, Ema was thrilled, but for once her boss was in a much more foul mood than she. It was a strange reversal, but she seriously doubted it would last long. At least she was allowed to wander around the site at first, but now, she had a feeling Klavier was about to make her evening even more dreadful.

"Jesus CHRIST, Klavier, for the last time, _no!_ I haven't seen your keys," Daryan Crescsend, whose hair was again giving Ema the creeps, tossed his hands in the air.

"When I picked up Lamiroir I had them, but now…" Klavier pressed his fingertips to his eyelids, looking far more irritated than Ema had ever seen him before. Even when his lackeys messed up the crime scenes.

Daryan was right. He really _was_ worse during concerts.

"Look, they'll have to show up eventually, right?" Daryan said with a scowl. "So don't worry, you'll still be able to ride your pretty little bike home."

"That's not what I'm worried about!" Klavier snapped back at him. "The keys to my _guitar case_ were on that key-ring! How am I supposed to play _The Guitar's Serenade_ with Lamiroir if I don't have it?"

"_Hello_," the detective waved his hair and his hand in front of Klavier's face, "_I_ have a guitar. We have like, 5 bazillion back-up guitars. Use one of those."

"Nein! I _have_ to play _that_ guitar!" Klavier's angry voice made Ema want to recoil and retreat to somewhere else, but she stood her ground firmly. His eyes flickered briefly to where Ema stood, and he sighed, his voice sounding less angry this time and more concerned. "It was a gift from Lamiroir. And, it was like a Lamborghini of guitars!"

"You could always break into the case," Ema piped in helpfully. While Klavier gave her an incredulous look, she could swear that Daryan was glaring daggers at her.

"I am _so_ glad I brought you along, fräulein Skye!" Klavier fixed her with an oh-so-charming grin before poking around the random assortment of junk they had laying around. Eventually, his eyes settled on a large crowbar, and he lifted it up with a nod. "This should do."

Ema gasped, wondering just where that crowbar had come from, let alone what Klavier could do with it. "What?! You can't be serious!"

Oh, but he was. With a loud _clang_, Klavier brought the crowbar down on the hinges of the case, breaking through one clasp and then the other. Satisfied, he lifted the guitar up from its case and strummed a few soft notes. "It will need to be tuned, but otherwise it sounds just as beautiful as it did before."

Klavier placed the guitar back in its case, then turned to Ema.

Ema was busy observing the cluttered room, avoiding his eyes while knowing that this wouldn't be good.

It wasn't.

"Fräulein Skye, I need you to stay backstage and make sure nothing else disappears," Klavier's voice drifted to her ears, regardless of whether or not she looked at him.

It was official. She hated him. "_Klavier…_" Ema growled.

Hearing the tone of her voice, or so she assumed, Daryan bid a hasty retreat through the door.

Her eyes snapped up to meet Klavier, feeling fire running through her veins. "Making me stay _backstage?!!_ Not only am I forced to listen to your 'music', and to be a babysitter for a bunch of foreigners, but now you want me to babysit your _stuff_ too?!! What do I look like to you?!"

Klavier was suddenly right next to her, diverting her anger away into another feeling entirely, but she couldn't exactly say what it was. "Ema, to me, you mean so much more…"

Though she had been full of venomous words just a couple seconds ago, they all seemed to disappear. All of them. Leaving her completely unable to speak.

Ema could feel his warmth next to her, cradling her as he wrapped his left arm around her waist, leaning in to whisper ever so slightly, "_so_ much more…" she felt his light kiss again brush the side of her cheek. "…but right now…"

He let her go, dancing quickly away as he offered his last words, "you are the head of security, fräulein Skye!"

Ema was sure that her enraged cry of anger must have echoed through the entire venue.

After their conversation, Ema had continued to be a glorified babysitter for the singer. And Klavier's equipment.

The day was becoming a big boring blur. Forced to stay backstage, there wasn't much that Ema could do.

Grumpily, she pulled out a bag of snackoos and started munching.

* * *

_Time: 3:30 AM_

_Location: Inside a fruity smelling cab_

_Mental state: asleep_

Ema didn't want to think about tonight. She really didn't. All she wanted to do was go home, fall on her futon, and pass out. Hell, even her welcome mat would be ok by this point.

She sat in aggravated silence and did her best to ignore the slightly less glimmerous man sitting across from her. Somehow, like usual, he commanded her attention though he hadn't spoken a word.

His blonde hair was mussed, partially from the concert, and the rest by his own doing every time he had clutched and shaken his head that night with frustration. Klavier was sitting with his arms folded, staring much like she had been out the window. He would occasionally sigh as if disturbed by something, but as of the moment, he hadn't bothered to share just what that was.

"Fräulein Skye," he finally murmured, drawing her attention to his tanned face. When she looked into his eyes, there was something missing that usually resided there. That playful spark, the happy glimmer that told her everything was really going to be all right. It almost seemed as though he had been defeated this night. "What would you do if you knew someone very close to you was guilty?"

Ema paused to consider him momentarily, pursing her lips as she contemplated just who he could be speaking of. "Klavier, who…"

Before she could finish, the cab came to a very abrupt stop outside her apartment. Both Ema and Klavier glared rudely at the driver. Klavier handed the driver some cash, telling him to wait for a few minutes.

Ema wondered briefly what he was up to, but she didn't question him when he followed her up the dark stone steps to her apartment. She opened the door, lazily letting it swing open and shut on its own after Klavier had slipped in.

"Want some instant noodles? They're in the freezer next to the iodide," Ema chuckled, for some reason thinking that this was an insult to him, then flopped down on her futon. She snuggled close to her pillow and closed her eyes.

"Noodles?" Klavier laughed, sitting next to her. His voice was gentle when he spoke, and she could _almost_ imagine that he _wasn't_ a glimmerous fop. "I'm sorry, I must have really overworked you today."

"Glimmer's gonna pay…" she murmured, feeling drowsiness already creeping into the edges of her senses.

Again, he chuckled. "I have a feeling that things are about to change for the worse very soon, but at least I can always count on you to stay the same."

Ema snorted, burying her head deeper into the cushy depths of her pillow.

"Daryan… I don't think he has been completely honest with me, and for that matter…" Klavier breathed in deeply. It sounded almost as if he were fighting with himself, debating whether or not to say something.

"Say it glimmer…" Ema murmured. "I wanna sleep."

"Always good to know you have the noblest intentions," his words were lighthearted, but his voice was heavier than usual. After the next sentence, she knew why. "Kristoph… my own _brother_ has been hiding a very deep secret."

Ema furrowed her brows, the talk of Kristoph leaving an unpleasant taste in her mouth. "He's a liar."

"You have that feeling too, huh?" Klavier's fingers were running through her hair now, playing with the long brown strands idly. For a while, neither of them said anything, and Ema simply enjoyed the pleasant feeling. Eventually, he stood up, then sighed, "the cab's gone. I should have known…"

Ema knew that she should be a better host for an obviously trapped rock-star, but the only thing she could bring herself to do was roll over. " 'nuff room?"

"Is that an invitation?" Klavier's glimmerous voice was back again, but she just didn't care. She felt the weight of his body pull the futon's mattress a bit as he laid down and the comfortable warmth of his body against hers. "Goodnight, fräulein Skye."

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

And what do you think happened that night, hmm? We'll have to find out next time! =)


	19. Day 233: The Beginning of the End

_October 7 – Day 233 _

_Time: 5:00 PM_

_Location: The local bookstore_

Ema knew the day would come eventually. The day when it would finally be done. The day when she would have to make another painful journey and again start anew.

The day her journal ran out of pages.

As she strode briskly to the local bookstore, after finishing her long and boring work-day, she carried the little beaten diary nervously in her hands. She felt uneasy without new pages. What if something really important happened and she wanted to write about it now because she would forget about it later?

Science, she told herself. She needed a new journal in the name of science.

Klavier had brutally embarrassed her earlier for her journal habit, when she had taken the book out and discovered that she had finished her last page. Ema had promptly delivered a snackoo to his head. She supposed that some glimmerous things would never change.

Ema still remembered that night three months ago when Klavier had spent the evening after his concert at her place. Sleeping on her futon. Next to her.

Actually, she remembered the next morning better, when she had unceremoniously kicked glimmer-boy onto the floor.

He had deserved it.

Still, the thought brought a smile to her face. Ema could almost imagine a day sometime not _too_ far in the future when she wouldn't kick him out into her apartment hallway the next morning and shower his clothing on top of him.

Ema quickly shook the thought away, realizing that she had more important things to attend to. When she finally stood in front of the rows of possible journals, her confidence wavered just a bit. What if her new diary wasn't as good as her old diary?

Ema mentally slapped herself. Why was she thinking such a ridiculous thing about a _diary_? It wasn't like she had never purchased a new one before.

Because this diary held memories. She swallowed, clutching the little book tighter. They were her memories of the first time she had shared a kiss, dated a guy seriously, and shared a home…

Even if Kristoph was a psycho and their relationship only lasted for two months, it was two months that Ema knew she would never forget, regardless of what happened to her journal.

She stood in front of the aisle, perusing the possible diaries, unable to decide. A little frustrated with her own indecision, she flipped through the pretty pages of her last diary, trying to examine scientifically what she was looking for.

Plain white pages, bold (but not too bold) colored lines, recycled paper (optional), firm binding (not that cheap glue stuff), and…

…white powder?

Ema paused, taking a moment to look at her hands. She rubbed her fingers together, testing the texture of the powder, her nerves rising just a bit as she did so. There was no mistaking it. It was definitely fingerprinting powder.

Slightly perturbed, she rubbed the powder off her fingers and onto her white jacket. Maybe she had just accidentally… put her fingers… in some fingerprinting powder? Somewhere?

No. It didn't make any sense! There was only one place that powder could have come from.

Hesitantly, she opened the book again, leafing through the pages. As she did, thoughts raced through her head. If the powder came from her book, that could only mean one thing: someone had gone through her diary. Not only that, but this person would have had to have both access to her journal and fingerprinting powder handy. Moreover, not many people would have a reason to fingerprint her diary… only someone _looking_ for something would do such a thing.

Scientifically, there was only one person who fit the description: Klavier.

She lifted her hands from the pages once more, turning the tips of her fingers up into the fluorescent lighting of the store. On the tips of her fingers was a fine layer of white powder.

Klavier had fingerprinted her diary.

But… _why?!!_ "Uurgh!!! And I was _just _starting to trust you too!!!" She exclaimed loudly with aggravation, earning her a few reproachful glares from the surrounding patrons.

"Ok, relax Ema," she murmured to herself as she grabbed the nearest diary and headed for the check-out line. "…there _has_ to be a reason he'd do that."

As she stood in line, paid, and walked out of the store, she could only think of the obvious reason. He had to be looking for someone's prints.

But, she reasoned, he probably wasn't looking for her fingerprints. No, he should know by now that she used that diary all the time. He had to suspect that someone else was reading her diary. But who?

The realization and question both hit her at the same time, and she froze in place. Someone had been reading her diary? Someone besides herself and Klavier? But who… who would…

Unable to concentrate on anything else, she caught the most timely bus back to the police department, determined to analyze the prints in her book better.

Four hours later, she had discovered that whoever had been reading her book was quite careful. All she could determine from most of the pages was that someone wearing gloves had leafed through her book.

Ema felt desolate, but she wasn't about to give up. Finally, on a page marked "Day 63" she found a print that wasn't hers or a glove. One index finger and half a thumb print. It wasn't much, but it was enough to find a match.

Both excitement and fear welled within her, pulling a panicked charge of feeling through her veins from her stomach to her fingertips. As she ran the print through the database Ema wondered who she would find, but before she could think much about that, the processor beeped, indicating that it had found a match.

Kristoph Gavin.

Ema stared at the computer screen blankly, unable to move for what must have been a few minutes. "Kristoph? Kristoph?!!"

"Ja, it seems mein bruder was a little sloppy that day."

Ema spun around, at first shocked to see Klavier standing there, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. He looked as if he must have been there for quite some time, watching her work. She wondered, briefly, if she had done anything dumb recently. Then her eyes narrowed, and she pointed accusingly at him, "_Klavier_ _you read my diary!!_"

Klavier didn't move from where he stood. His somber but quiet expression did not change as he agreed, "ja, I did."

Remembering all of those embarrassing things she had written about both Klavier and his brother in her journal, she felt her cheeks grow warm with mortification and fury. "I can't believe you would do something like that…"

She walked over to where he stood, glaring daggers at him. Ema leaned closer, not wanting to miss any expression, any sign of remorse or glee from him. From this close angle, she could see that dark patches were growing underneath his eyes, and his hair was even more disheveled than usual. Something must not be right with him either, but she was more concerned with her diary right now than whatever it was that must be bothering him. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet and menacing, "Why, Klavier? Why did you read it?"

Klavier's expression, again, did not change. Without faltering he responded quietly, "because it was the only way to save you, Ema."

This caught her offguard. "Save me?"

Finally, his expression did change. His features looked pained, as if what he was about to say had troubled him for a very long time. "I suspected that Kristoph was reading your diary months ago. There was no way he should have known about some of the things in court that he did, nor understood the intricate details of them."

He paused for a moment, swallowing and looking away uncomfortably. "People were already talking, before he even went to jail, about how you must be slipping him information…"

"I would never—" she began.

"I know," his eyes fixed on her again. "Which is why I knew he had to be reading your diary. Where else could he find such detailed explanations of every court case? Not to mention, he probably wanted to keep tabs on you."

She had known that Kristoph was too good to be true. Of course, it all made sense now. Why else would he keep _her_ around, of all people? Make dinner for her… invite her to move in…

It was all a cleverly calculated ploy.

"His fingerprints on your diary were enough evidence to get you off the hook without the situation escalating to a trial," Klavier's continued explanation pulled her from her miserable thoughts.

Ema laughed weakly, running her fingers over the ridged cover of her diary, cringing at the painful memories it brought back. "So you read it too, huh? Then you must know what a fool I am."

"Nein," Klavier responded, startling her momentarily out of her funk. "Your writings are far from foolish."

"This horrible thing…" Ema shut her eyes, willing hot tears away as unwanted memories flooded back to her. "Kristoph manipulated me with this… he read everything… all of my cases… all of my research…"

She took a deep shaky breath. "I should just burn it and be done with it."

"Don't," Klavier said quickly, covering her hand and part of the book with his. "They may be difficult memories, but they are still yours. They're a part of you."

"I don't… I don't understand…"

"We all have things that we would like to forget, but if we forget them, then we lose a part of ourselves," he murmured, glancing aside momentarily as if he were recalling something too. Ema couldn't say exactly why, but he seemed almost vulnerable in that instant.

In that moment, Ema wondered if Klavier was really all that different from her.

She turned away from him, not even wanting to look at a Gavin right now. "Can you just… go away for a while? I think I need some time to sort this out."

"Nein, sadly I can't do that. We have a case to investigate."

His response surprised her. She looked up at him with shock. How could he be so insensitive?!

"Before you start thinking about what a jerk I am, hear me out," Klavier didn't waste much time, though he did run his fingers through the wisps of hair in front of his face. He seemed distressed, and after his next statement, Ema knew why. "The man who died was involved in forging evidence for a murder case long ago. It was my first case and Phoenix Wright's last."

That caught her attention. Ema's eyes widened, "_that_ case? You never fully explained it to me."

"There is a reason," Klavier said hesitantly, his voice trailing almost uncharacteristically indecisively before he finally just said it. "Kristoph was involved."

Ema grimaced, knowing full well what this would mean: a very difficult case full of dead-ends.

"You asked," Klavier pointed out, his typical glimmerous tone back. He held out a hand to her, inviting her along, "come, fräulein Skye, let's ride the wind."

Knowing what _that _meant too, she grudgingly accepted.

* * *

_Time: late_

_Location: Drew Misham's home_

_Mental state: weary_

After a short motorcycle ride, they arrived at the Misham's home/art studio. The little studio was cluttered, and the rest of the house wasn't much better. The place reminded Ema of a bird's nest. A very strange bird that was involved in illegal forgeries.

Ema could guess how Drew was involved in Phoenix's last case. "So Phoenix asked Drew to forge evidence for him?"

Klavier was oddly quiet.

"….well?" she prompted again.

"So it would seem," he offered finally. Again, he remained peculiarly silent afterwards, quietly absorbing himself in his work instead of the friendly banter they usually shared.

"You don't really think Phoenix was guilty, do you?" Ema asked bluntly.

"I'm not completely certain, but if he is innocent, then that means someone else must be guilty." Klavier shook his head subtly. Ema could see the faint wince in his profile.

Klavier had been undeniably upset when Daryan Crescend had been exposed as a drug trafficker and would-be blackmailer. She had seen how torn Klavier was when he removed Daryan from both the band and his position on the police force.

This didn't really bother Ema at all. Really, Daryan had always given her the creeps, and frankly, she was glad to see him behind bars. But now, she could tell that Klavier was even _more_ upset than before. She could think of only one suspect who would cause him this much grief.

"_Someone else_, hmm?" Ema sighed, tapping her foot impatiently. "You may as well say _Kristoph_ at this point."

"Kristoph…" Klavier's voice again trailed off. It was really uncharacteristic of him to look and sound so defeated.

What was _up_ with him? It didn't take a scientific genius like her to figure out that Klavier suspected his brother had played a part in Phoenix Wright's downfall. But… if that was really his concern, why was he wasting his time poking around this place?

"Klavier, go talk to your brother," Ema stated.

The burgundy-clad prosecutor frowned. "I don't see how that would help our case."

"It might not, but it sounds like you have a few issues to sort out with him," Ema sighed, seeing that he was still hesitant. "Look, it isn't like this crime scene is going to get any worse than it already is. You told me earlier that Vera Misham is already in custody. Drew Misham was already taken away. We can investigate this scene tomorrow. Tonight…"

"Go talk to Kristoph, I know," though he was agreeing, Klavier still sounded defeated somehow, and from what Ema could tell, he had nothing to be defeated about. Yet.

"Or, if you're too cowardly to talk to him, I could…"

"No," Before she could even finish, Klavier had responded. At first, his face was a tense mask, his lips tight and his eyes widened with panic. Then, his expression softened. He walked up to Ema, taking her hand. "I don't want to put you through that again. Kristoph is manipulative and deceitful. You should never have to deal with him again. You don't deserve that."

For some reason, Ema felt touched by his sudden chivalry. She smirked, "Wow, glimmer, this is a side of you I don't think I've seen. There's actually a _man_ behind Rockstar Prosecutor Klavier Gavin."

He laughed lightly, his playful smile returning. "You doubted me, fräulein Skye?" With the way he looked right now, Ema kind of wished that she hadn't been avoiding having brunch or dinner with him, or going anywhere with him, or being alone with him…

…wait… she was alone with him right now, wasn't she? Despite their recent morbid conversation, Ema felt tingles forming in the pit of her stomach. It seemed that Klavier was tuned-into her thoughts, because when she looked into his eyes, she could swear that they mirrored the same feeling.

There was a reason she didn't want to be around him alone, she recalled, as she noticed Klavier take a small step even closer, his hand tightening around hers.

She didn't know what she would do if he decided to…

And then it happened again. As he leaned closer, the sharp end of his metal Gavinners necklace swung forward, just barely grazing her skin.

Immediately, she felt herself shutting down, filled with fear and dread. It was happening again, this awful feeling of despair, like she was a helpless child and something absolutely terrible was about to happen…

"Ema? Ema!!" Klavier's voice was distant as her world faded to black.

* * *

_Time: ???_

_Location: ???_

_Mental State: Groggy…_

Ema awoke to an oddly familiar looking dark room. It wasn't her room, Lana's guest bedroom, or even the room she had occupied in Kristoph's condo. No, this dark room had a large comfy bed, a great view of the city, and…

… a wall full of guitars.

"_Dear God, not again!_" Ema thought to herself miserably, squeezing her eyelids shut.

With perfect timing as usual, the door slowly edged open. "Fraulein Skye?" Out of the corner of her vision, Ema saw the blonde wisps of hair and concerned blue eyes tentatively peek through the door. She panicked for a moment, wondering which Gavin brother this could be before she remembered that the crazy one was already locked away safely in jail.

Confirming her suspicions, Klavier walked in through the door and sat next to her on the bed. It probably took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting, but once he could see that her eyes were sleepily open, he smiled, "Good evening, Ema. Feeling better?"

Ema smiled weakly and nodded. "Embarrassed for the second time in my life, though."

"Only the second time?" Klavier's little smirk, along with that comment, earned him the pillow that she threw at his face. He laughed, catching the pillow and placing it back on the bed. "Seriously though, I'm glad that you're better."

"I don't know what it is… but this seems to keep happening," Ema sighed.

"It does?" Klavier asked, prompting her into telling a bit more of the story.

"Yes, besides the two times you know about, it happened a few times at Kristoph's apartment too…good thing _Kristoph_ was always around to take care of me," Ema snorted, realizing the irony in her own statement. Some knight in shining armor _he _had been…

Klavier grimaced at that statement. He reached up thoughtlessly to touch the Gavinners necklace that was still hanging around his neck, then as if thinking better of it, he let his hand drop back down to his lap.

Ema couldn't make sense of any of it, and she really didn't care to at the moment. She had known from day one that glimmer-boy had issues, but she also knew that the solution to those problems would not be something she could fix up overnight. Or over the course of a few months, it seemed.

"Are you well enough to stand?" he asked, drawing her attention back to the present.

"Yes, of course I am!" She exclaimed, and to prove her point, she threw off the covers and leapt to her feet.

That's when she conveniently remembered the _last_ time she had been asked that question… stood up too quickly… felt the room lurch around her…

…and had been rescued by a Gavin.

But this time, it was Klavier holding her close, steadying her and making sure that she was all right. She clung to his burgundy suit-jacket for a few moments before the world stopped spinning around her.

When it did, she found that neither of them really cared to let go.

It seemed like it should have been strange, walking with Klavier down the hallway and sitting with him on the couch overlooking the city, but it felt so natural. The warmth of his body next to hers, their fingers intertwined loosely together, didn't feel strange at all.

As they sat by each other on Klavier's overly squishy leather couch, Ema was struck by a very profound realization.

"You… live in a penthouse, don't you?" she asked, noticing that they were _much_ higher off the ground than she last remembered… and that not only was the evening skyline beautiful, but the view from the large windows stretched as far around as she could see.

Klavier appeared slightly hurt, "you didn't notice last time?"

"I was a little preoccupied," she reminded him, knowing that she wouldn't have to explain any further to him.

She didn't, and Klavier seemed to get over it rather quickly. "Yes. Oh well," he said almost cheerfully as he turned to her. "Would you like anything to eat?"

"If I remember correctly," Ema began, flipping down her pink shades that were miraculously still on her head. "The last time you only had hot dogs, ketchup, and cheese to offer."

"And it _still_ beats instant noodles," Klavier teased, pointing the all too familiar "_Take that!_" finger at her.

Ema laughed but decided that she may as well let Klavier try cooking for her. As she sat on a high countertop stool, she watched him mill about the kitchen in a most unfamiliar manner and smiled. Lana was right; he really wasn't like Kristoph at all.

The cheese dogs that he made for them proved it.

Ema gaped at the half-microwave-exploded hot dog (the other half was still frozen) with a thin square of cheese that looked unusually crispy on top. When she looked up at Klavier, she could have sworn he was trying to hold back a laugh.

She didn't. It started as a giggle, then grew into a hearty laugh that filled the penthouse. Ema didn't realize it, but it had been a long time since she laughed quite as long and as hard. As she wiped tears from her eyes, she could see that Klavier wasn't trying to hold back his chuckles anymore either.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked, smiling charmingly as he held out a hand to her.

The smile never left her lips as she took his hand and oh-so-politely suggested, "let's eat out tonight."

* * *

_Time: 11:30 PM_

_Location: Some little restaurant_

_Mood: Happy_

Unfortunately, most places of fine and mediocre dining were already closed by this late hour. Ema wasn't even sure what the name of this place was, and for once, she really didn't care.

It was finally happening. After all of the times she had avoided it, or mayhem had struck to prevent it, it was happening.

Dinner with Klavier Gavin.

Somehow, this wasn't how she had pictured it. She had expected something grand, something _spectacular_, like La Dolce Vita, where Kristoph had first taken her. While this place certainly wasn't the most well known (at least she assumed it wasn't) the atmosphere was relaxed, she seats were comfortable, and the food was good.

Klavier was also a little less glimmerous than usual. Ema had always expected a cocky arrogant dinner date, but that wasn't at all what she received. Sure, he was still Klavier, but somehow he just wasn't annoying tonight.

Maybe the lack of fangirls had something to do with it.

Ema smiled at the thought, tossing her napkin onto her plate. Moments later, a waiter who looked as if he was pulling a double-shift came by to whisk the remnants of her food away. At the same time, he left a small black folder on the table.

The bill. Ema already knew what would happen; Klavier would pay (he was already reaching for the check) and they would be on their merry way. For some reason, she found herself flashing back to a memory from long ago.

_"Don't let him pay for you." _

She could still hear Kristoph's ominous tone as he said those words. And yet still she wondered; what the hell did that mean?

This _would_ be the first time he had ever paid for her dinner… what if he…. what if he _what? _What could possibly happen that would be so horrible? Ema bit her bottom lip, watching nervously as his ringed fingers grasped the tiny black folder.

Klavier slipped some cash into the holder, handed it to the waiter, and it was done. She had let him pay. Was it too late? What would he do? Ema continued to watch him intently, still fearful of the unknown.

Klavier grinned, waving a hand in front of her face. "Ema? Are you still in there, or have you finally been blinded by my amazing physique?"

Ema snapped back quickly, realizing that she _had_ been acting a little strangely since the bill arrived. "You _wish_, glimmer. No, I was just thinking about how you always seem to pick up the tabs."

"I assume it is only polite when in the company of a beautiful fräulein such as you, ja?" he responded smoothly, giving her the impression that he had practiced this line before.

Practiced line or not, she still stumbled with her response. "I… well…" after trying and miserably failing to explain her strange reasoning, she settled for a "thank you."

Something about this dinner was nice. It was pleasantly familiar. It felt like she had been going to dinner with Klavier for ages, and when she thought about it, she had been. What really made dinner different from all of the breakfasts and lunches that they had shared over the last few months?

"It's just a name," she murmured to herself, smiling at the thought.

"Come again?" Klavier inquired, looking as perplexed as he should have been by her random statement as he held the door open for her.

Ema walked into the nighttime air, feeling a gentle breeze stir around them. "Whether we have lunch or dinner doesn't matter to me. It's just a name," she spun around, finding herself face-to-face with Klavier. "Whether you call me 'Fräulein Skye' or 'Ema'.... it's also only a name."

Klavier looked bemused, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he opted to watch her with his fond blue eyes, leaning to one side while the warm breeze gently agitated his clothing. Ema could only assume it was because he knew she had more that she wanted to say and was waiting for her to finish.

"And yet, Kristoph was fond of calling me 'mein fräulein,' whatever that really meant to him. I get the feeling it was one of the many masks he hid behind. Did you know, now that I think about it… he never once called me Ema?"

"There are _many_ things we have yet to reveal about him…" Klavier stated, shaking his head lightly, "but I believe they will all come to the surface very soon."

Ema had a feeling they would too. If her recent discovery about Kristoph reading her journal wasn't enough, she now suspected that he had played some part in framing Phoenix Wright. _And_…if Kristoph was involved in that, he was probably integral to this sticky crime scene too. Had Kristoph… committed _another murder?_

Ema knew she was speaking for them both when she said, "the sooner the better."

* * *

For the first time _ever_, Ema found herself unable to write in her journal.

Ok, so maybe she didn't exactly pick the best journal in her rush to find out who had fingerprinted her diary. The light pink diary with stars and unicorns embossed into each page was far from professional.

She placed the new book carefully back in its bag, folding the paper ends of the bag over the edges of the book, determined to exchange it for another tomorrow.

She laid back on her futon, clutching her pillow and blowing a few wayward strands of hair from her face. In a short few days, this would be decided. Ema was certain that the investigation would hold her attention easily, but would she be able to bear watching another soul-wrenching trial?

"I will. I have to," she decided as she fell uneasily to sleep, dreary thoughts of Kristoph again on trial haunting her mind.

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

My apologies go out to all of you who read this chapter without any quotation marks. removed them for some unknown reason. The problem should be fixed now!

There is only one more chapter left in Ema's saga! Can you believe it? What do you suppose will happen in the next and final chapter? =)


	20. Day 235: Snackoos and You

_October 9 – Day 235_

_Time: 2:14 PM_

_Location: District Courtroom No. 3_

_Mental state: A little sick._

It was time to move on. This time for good.

Ema decided that never again would she dwell on Kristoph Gavin. His maniacal laughter echoed through the courtroom, his body a twisted figure on the witness stand. Kristoph was truly nothing like the man she had known. Or perhaps, he was completely like the man she had known, and she had never realized it.

"Such a disgusting way to go…" she murmured to nobody in particular. Really, she almost pitied him. Almost. It was tough to pity a man who had deceived and killed so many people, all due to selfishness and greed.

As bailiff Joe came to remove Kristoph from the courtroom, his murderous gaze swung away from the man whose name he had screamed in rage just minutes earlier, Phoenix Wright.

For an instant, barely a moment, Kristoph's eyes fell on her. Ema had never known disgust as she felt it then, revulsion so foul that it made her stomach churn.

And then he looked away, or rather, was dragged away while his sickening laughter continued to fill the room.

Ok, so maybe it would be difficult not to dwell, but she was _definitely _moving on.

Just as she came to that epiphanous decision, she felt a hand rest gently on her shoulder. "You ok, fräulein Skye?"

Ema turned and gave Klavier her best "I'm not really ok, but I'll pretend I am" smile.

"Lies don't become you, you know," Klavier chided, earning himself a scowl from her. He laughed, seeing her grimace, "Now _there's_ the Ema Skye I know!"

"And what about you?" she asked, unable to completely fight off a small, almost unwilling, smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she glanced up at the apparently jovial prosecutor. "You can't be happy about this either."

"Of course I'm not, but this has been a long time coming," Klavier shook his head, gazing at the retreating figure of his older brother. "I have had my suspicions about Kristoph for seven years now."

"Seven years?" Ema's eyes widened, and she placed a shocked hand to the side of her cheek.

"Yes, I always wondered how Kristoph knew what he knew, and he would never tell me anything more about that case after it happened," Klavier sighed, then turned his bright smile back to her, "but it is far better to live in this reality than in one of lies. Wouldn't you agree?"

Thinking back to her time with Kristoph, always knowing that _something_ was not quite right, made Ema nod her head, returning his small sad smile.

"Why the sad looks? You're coming tonight, right?"

Ema turned around, startled to find Trucy Wright standing cheerfully behind her. "Going _where_ tonight?"

"To the Wonderbar to celebrate Polly's victory, of course!" the young magician girl smiled, touching the brim of her blue silk hat proudly. "I'll be doing a magic trick performance dedicated to him!"

While Ema did have her reserves about going to a bar with at least one minor, she found that Trucy wasn't someone she could easily say no to. Her sad smile turned into a genuine grin as she gave in, "Oh, all right. I guess he deserves at least a pat on the back. Maybe I'll even share a snackoo or two with him."

"That's the spirit!" Trucy beamed at them, then looked expectantly at Klavier, "How about you?"

While Klavier did glance darkly out the door as the bailiffs (Joe couldn't do it alone) finally pulled Kristoph out of sight, he turned his usual Mr. Charming smile to Trucy. "I suppose I _should _ congratulate him, even though his victory means my defeat. Herr Forehead doesn't get much love in his profession, does he fräulein?" Before Trucy had a chance to really think about that question, he flicked aside a lock of his honey-blonde hair, distracting her teenage brain with his prettiness.

Ema could swear that she saw bishie-sparkles fly from it. She secretly decided to find and hide his stash of glitter later.

"I suppose I'll have to come along. Someone has to keep an eye on fräulein Skye, after all," he winked at Trucy, making the young girl giggle while Ema swung her purse at his head (and missed, much to her annoyance.)

Despite her recently trying to deliver him a severe concussion, Klavier turned his bright smile to Ema, holding out his hand to her. "Well, Ema, shall we ride the wind?"

Knowing what that _always_ meant, she sighed forlornly but took his hand anyway.

* * *

_Time: 3:30 PM_

_Location: The Wonder Bar_

_Mental State: Ok_

Ema was actually feeling ok right now. She lounged on one of the barstools next to Klavier, sipping a cranberry juice (it was far too early for anything else) and crunching a few snackoos thoughtfully.

The Wonder Bar had a nice atmosphere. It was tastefully decorated with photographs of various famous people who had performed there on the walls. Deep burgundy barstools lined the bar that where she sat, and the room was filled with high-top wooden tables that could easily be pushed together for large crowds.

They were the first to arrive (she had Klavier's erratic driving and deathcycle to thank for that.) She waited almost anxiously for the others to show up, as she stole a quick sidelong glance at Klavier.

He was still sitting in the same position as he was a minute ago, sipping whatever the hell he had ordered. The glimmerous fop had on his sunglasses (even though it wasn't sunny in the least inside) and swirled his drink in his hand, his silver rings clinking the glass occasionally as he did so. He seemed so relaxed, so self assured…

…so why did she have this _horrible_ feeling that something was about to happen? Something ungodly awful?

"Fräulein Skye, you have that look again," Klavier grinned, dipping his sunglasses lower so that she could see his mischievous blue eyes beneath them. "Are you sure you're not constipated?"

"Ugh, no! What is your fixation with that?" She growled, placing her cranberry juice firmly on the bar table. "But going to the restroom to get away from _you _does seem like a good idea."

When she stood up to leave, he nodded knowingly and said, "ah, feminine problems."

"Shut up!" she grumbled, giving him a shove as she made her way to the restroom. He was wrong about his last assumption, but she supposed it didn't hurt to let him think he was right.

The bathroom was in the far back corner of the bar. Ema found herself squeezing awkwardly between chairs and people as she made her way to the back hallway. When she finally reached the deserted corridor, a flash of familiar bright blue jumped out to say hello. "Detective Skye! I'm so glad you came!"

Ema found herself being pulled backstage by none other than Trucy Wright. "Oh, hi Trucy, yeah me too."

"And you came with Klavier Gavin too!" It could have been Ema's imagination, but she thought that Trucy looked a little _too_ happy with that statement.

"Unfortunately," she agreed, placing her hand on her hip and swaying to one side as she glared at the red velvet curtain. She couldn't see him through the thick fabric, but she knew that she was at least glaring in that fop's direction.

Trucy giggled, "It's ok detective Skye, you don't have to pretend so much!"

"Pretend?" Ema asked, genuinely wondering where the girl was going with her comment.

Ema could have sworn she heard a surprised dingle-chime as the magician girl seemed startled for a moment. But, Trucy quickly tilted her head to the side and thoughtfully placed an index finger on her chin. "That's strange… you really _don't_ see it, do you?"

After her recent dealings with the young Wright girl, Ema decided that there would be things she would never understand about her. This would be one of them.

Ema smiled apologetically, "No, I'm afraid I really don't. Care to explain?"

Trucy touched the rim of her blue silk hat with a grin, "I guess daddy was right about you! I always thought he was just kidding..."

"Right about _what?_" Ema asked, beginning to feel exasperated and completely left out of the loop that she obviously should be in.

The young magician girl smiled friendlily and finally said, "You like him, and he likes you."

Ema blinked. "Who?"

Now it was Trucy's turn to sigh as she frantically gestured towards the very curtain that Ema had been glowering at earlier, "him!"

"The… curtain? Mr. Wright? …." The detective thought out loud for a moment before it finally dawned on her like a horrible tsunami cresting over the horizon. "K-KLAVIER???"

Ema's eyes widened and she quickly shut her mouth, realizing that she had just screamed his name for the whole bar to hear.

As if to mock her, she heard his reply, "still here, Fraulein Skye! Have you taken care of your… _problems_… yet? Do you need me to go buy you a… umm… _tampon?_"

"Shut up, glimmer-boy!" she yelled back before turning her attention back to Trucy. In a much more hushed voice, she continued, "What do you mean? Don't you see how he torments me all the time?! I couldn't possibly… _he _couldn't possibly…"

Ema felt dizzy. The world was beginning to move around her as she felt herself drawing in short and shallow breaths. _Klavier?_ Why _him?!_ Anyone else… Phoenix, Edgeworth, hell… even _Kristoph_… but _Klavier???_

Ema forced herself to steady her breathing and think about this like a rational human being. Trucy didn't even have to say anything. Everything was already beginning to fall into place. Sure, Klavier was a little bit childish about… well… about whatever she wanted to call it… but then again, so was she.

When Ema had met Klavier the first time, she _had_ found him charmingly attractive. It wasn't until their half hour air guitar session that she had decided she hated him, and even after that, had he _really_ done anything that merited her constant beratement?

"_He __**did**__ give you a self-autographed picture of himself. Two, actually,"_ her mind told her. Ema nodded in agreement with herself, digging her hand through her purse and retrieving the offending pieces of glossy paper without thought.

Ema smiled. She had never looked too closely at the photographs, but now she could see that one was clearly different from the other. In the first photo, the one she assumed he gave his fans, Klavier was rocking out with the Gavinners, an all too glimmerous smile on his face as he winked to the crowd.

The second photograph was a close-up myspace shot. Though he still smiled, she could tell that it was his "oops, I really screwed that one up" smile. His autograph came along with his cell phone number just below that almost sad smile of his.

"Detective Skye, there's writing on the back of that one!" Trucy exclaimed in a hushed whisper.

It was true. As Ema flipped the apologetic picture over, she recognized Klavier's handwriting immediately. It was slightly neater than usual, as if he were really trying to say something. She read the message once, gasped, then read it again, more carefully this time.

* * *

_**Fräulein Skye,**_

_** I know you are upset about today. Believe me, I am too, but we did what was right for everyone… for Phoenix Wright, for both of us… my brother is better left a memory for the world.**_

_** You have my cell number now; call me anytime you like. Any time. I won't ask you any embarrassing questions, and I won't judge. I care about you, Ema, more than anyone.**_

_** Love,**_

_**Klavier **_

**

* * *

  
**

"…more than anyone….?" The note was short and simple, but the impact of reading it alone made Ema's voice sound so small and far away. She quickly swallowed away the lump that was threatening to rise in her throat.

All this time, he had confessed this to her, and she had never known. How long had she held onto this paper, never bothering to look at it once? How long had Klavier been waiting for some sort of response?

Ema thought back to when he had given her the photograph. The day she broke up with Kristoph… the day she visited him in prison. Quickly, Ema did the math in her head. 166 days ago.

"My daddy said you'd be the last to know… that you would be too stubborn and make Klavier really wait," Trucy nodded knowingly, seeming surprisingly adult for her age.

"Your daddy is a very smart man. A man who pries far too much into other people's lives, but a smart man," Ema agreed.

"Why thank you, I wouldn't have it any other way," the all too familiar voice from behind her made Ema cringe as though she had just been caught.

"Of course you wouldn't, daddy, that's _always_ how you are!" Trucy put her arms around him, hugging him tightly. "Mr. Edgeworth is always accusing you of…"

"Yes he is!" Phoenix agreed, hugging the girl back as Ema finally turned around to take a good look at him. Although he still wore the grey sweater and outrageous blue "papa" hat, Phoenix seemed different than he had the last few times she had seen him. Different, yet oddly familiar… the way he was smiling, laughing openly as if he didn't have a care in the world…

Ema smiled. It looked like the world was about to get the "old" Phoenix Wright back. With a few happy modifications, of course. "You must be really happy to have finished this case, Mr. Wright. I can't believe you've been waiting seven years!"

"Tell me about it," he concurred, letting Trucy go so that he could turn and have a better look at Ema. "And it seems you have been waiting quite some time too."

"A few months is hardly the same as a few years…" she began, already feeling a flush rising in her cheeks from the thought.

"Why the modesty, all of a sudden? Kristoph was quite awful to you, if I recall correctly," Phoenix pointed out.

"Damn right he was, and I'm glad that he's finally behind bars for good!" Ema snarled, folding her arms across her chest with disgruntlement.

Phoenix laughed, "Now there's the Ema Skye I know!"

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Ema wondered out loud to herself. It was the strangest thing.

Trucy laughed, "Oh daddy, you have such interesting friends! Well I still have a few things to get together for tonight's show!" With that, the young magician girl skipped away to another part of the backstage area happily.

After a few moments, Phoenix's expression softened a bit. "Ema, I think Trucy has already spoken to you about something important, hasn't she?"

Knowing immediately what he was talking about, Ema stared at the same part of the curtain she was staring at before. "Yes, she did say something…"

"Trucy is… unusually gifted, if you haven't already noticed. I would give some consideration to whatever she mentioned," he said, a knowing look on his face. He glanced down briefly and commented, "you're wrinkling that."

Ema's eyes widened as she glanced down to see that she was "wrinkling" the picture Klavier had given her. "Oh!" Hastily, she smoothed it out and stowed it back in her purse.

Before Ema could really respond to him, Trucy was back at their side saying, "didn't you hear me? I can't let you see all of my secrets!" With that, she urged them out of the backstage area.

Phoenix complied quickly, but as Ema was about to leave, Trucy held her back for a few moments. "Detective Skye, don't be afraid to follow your dreams. I know that he cares about you too."

"What?!" Ema tried to turn back around, surprised again by Trucy's forwardness.

"You know what to do! Now go!" She said happily, giving her an encouraging shove back into the hallway.

Ema emerged from the backstage area slightly frazzled but overall feeling good. The Wright family always seemed to have that effect on her. She made her way back to the main area and was glad when Klavier didn't make another annoying comment about… well, about anything.

Instead, she was surprised to find him sitting with prosecutor Edgeworth, discussing something with him in German. She frowned, slightly annoyed with her continued inability to understand the nonsense language. It bothered her less this time though, partially because it was Edgeworth talking to him, but also because Ema didn't know if she could deal with him just yet anyway.

Before she could even think about making her way over to their place at the bar, another friendly face greeted her. "Ema, I'm so glad that you're safe," Lana said, catching her in a tight embrace.

"Me too, sis!" She smiled, thoughts of Klavier shoved aside as she hugged her sister back, "You're here?"

"Of course I am. I was also at the courtroom today too," Lana released her and held her at arm's length. "You have no idea how worried I was about you."

"Oh Lana, don't be such a worrywart. I can take care of myself," Ema sighed, used to hearing this sort of thing. It wasn't as if anything would change though; Lana was Lana. She always was (and always would be) the closest person to a mother that she ever had.

"I know you can, but still, I'm glad you have such good friends," her older sister smiled, glancing around the room at a few of them. "Why don't you go say hello to some of them? That boy in the red helped you out a lot, and he seems a little puzzled."

She looked in the direction Lana had indicated and was shocked to find Apollo Justice looking around the bar with wide eyes. Her sister nodded, retreating back to a table where it looked like some people were waiting for her. "Why don't you take care of things? I'll be around."

Ema nodded, taking the opportunity to throw a snackoo at Apollo. He flinched, rubbing his forehead where it hit. "Detective Skye?"

"Long time no see," she smiled as he walked over to her, looking less nervous and out of place than before. "Congrats, you really saved the day!"

The young defense attorney scratched the back of his neck and laughed, "Thanks! But really Mr. Wright deserves the congratulations; he did most of the work." Then he went back to looking around the bar anxiously.

"Let me guess, you don't go to bars very often, do you?" Ema asked, not surprised that it wasn't really his scene. "Don't worry, you're with good company."

"I know, and I appreciate you saying so," Apollo said, looking genuinely grateful, "but I keep getting this weird feeling…"

As his voice trailed off, Ema noticed that he was rubbing a large golden bangle around his wrist curiously. "It's…" And then his eyes widened as he stared at her, making Ema feel suddenly exposed, as if he could see right through her. "It's you."

Ok, she was officially weirded out. But at the same time, she couldn't be, not when Apollo was looking at her with such concern in his eyes. Just when she thought she couldn't be more confused, she remembered one very important detail.

Apollo was just as good as Phoenix at reading people (possibly better.) It was odd that the two people Phoenix had somehow "adopted" were both so unusually gifted. Knowing what Trucy had already told her just minutes earlier, Ema sighed. "You're going to tell me to go for Klavier too, aren't you?"

Now it was Apollo's turn to look stunned. "I… wasn't going to say that, but by all means," he said, gesturing towards Klavier, who was still chatting with Edgeworth. "It seems like it would make sense."

"Of course it would, Polly!" Trucy appeared (literally) next to them, smiling jovially. "Don't you agree?"

"Trucy, you've _got_ to stop doing that," Apollo turned to his assistant/friend/sister (Ema hadn't exactly decided _what_ they were yet) with exasperation. "And besides, I made the comment in the first place, why wouldn't I agree with myself?!"

Ema stood by the two, feeling awkward for assuming everyone thought she should "go for Klavier." Of course she wasn't the center of the world, and Apollo and Trucy probably both had much bigger things on their minds right now anyway, right?

Trucy saw her just standing there and laughed, waving her away, "Go ahead and talk to him! But don't forget that my show starts in twenty minutes!"

Then again, maybe they didn't.

Ema decided to take her advice to heart though, and as she walked slowly in the direction of the two gibberish-speaking men across the room, Edgeworth's dark eyes caught her gaze for just a moment.

When Edgeworth noticed her approaching, he said a few more quick words to Klavier, then walked away, nodding politely to her as he passed by.

As he walked away, Ema felt as if a part of her past was becoming… well… the past. For far too long, she had dabbled in a present that included much of her childish naivety, being enamored with people who were unreachable, for various reasons. Edgeworth… Kristoph… she had known that neither of them were ever for her, but for some reason, she had always pined for them both.

Ema smiled as he walked away. Miles Edgeworth would always be her friend, a gentle reminder of the past she had once celebrated, but he would never be hers. For the first time in her life, she felt completely at peace with that.

She was a little relieved that he didn't wish her luck too; it didn't seem like his style, after all. Then again, it was _Edgeworth_. Maybe he knew something she didn't? And just what _had_ he been talking about earlier anyway?

"We were discussing the finer qualities of a good port, if you were wondering," Klavier commented offhandedly.

"It goes well with dark chocolate, right?" Ema responded, reclaiming her seat by him with a sigh.

"Why, yes, it does," Klavier looked at her with surprise. "However did you know?"

"Well… _he_ showed me that… _Kristoph_…" she shook her head, suddenly feeling that sense of dread filling her again. The air seemed heavier than it was before, almost as if it were harder to breathe.

Klavier noticed. "Would you like to step outside for a moment, fräulein Skye? I think a little fresh air might do us both some good."

She nodded and noticed that once again, he laid money on the bar to cover both of their tabs. After following him outside, where they sat on a bench underneath the leafy shade of a nearby palm tree, that awkwardness continued to fill the air between them again.

It was no wonder to her now why Klavier had seemed a little different from usual… why he had disappeared for a few days afterwards, not calling, not visiting. He was waiting for _her_ to call. He was waiting for _her_ to make the next move.

And all this time, she hadn't even realized it.

Klavier had literally thrown himself out there, and she had never said a word back to him about it. He probably had no idea that she had only _just now_ read his heartfelt message.

There was so much she wanted to say to him. So many questions filled her brain that she finally just chose one. "Is there a reason you keep paying for me?"

That hadn't been the one she wanted to ask.

Klavier blinked at her. "As I told you before, because it seems like the polite thing to do. Why shouldn't I pay for a beautiful fräulein?"

"You… you've gotta be lying," Ema concluded, trying to take a page from Trucy and Apollo's book.

Apparently, she didn't follow their book very well. Klavier removed his sunglasses and continued to blink at her with the utmost innocence. His bright blue eyes looked a little strained, almost concerned as he asked, "this seems to have been bothering you for quite some time now. Tell me, is there a reason you keep asking me that question?"

"Umm… because…" Ema bit her lower lip, not wanting to tell him the reason but at the same time desiring to do so with all of her heart. Maybe he would finally be able to shed some light on that mysterious statement from so long ago, and who would be better to ask than the source? "Because Kristoph warned me the day I first met him not to let you pay for me."

Klavier's eyes widened for a moment before he covered them with his hand, shaking his head, "ugh. Really?"

"Yeah, he did," she replied, starting to get the sinking feeling that she had just trespassed into dangerous waters.

"And you believed him?" he asked, still not looking up at her.

"I did…" she began, then spoke a little quicker, a bit defensively, "I had just met him!"

"And I would have thought that after _dating_ him for two months and going through all of _this_ you would have realized that he's a Gott verdammet _liar!!!_" Klavier was upset. It didn't take a forensic genius to figure that out, but she did recognize something that she assumed most others would miss.

Klavier was not angry with her. As if to prove this point, he turned his gaze back to her, a foreign, weathered, look in his eyes. "I apologize if I startled you, but Kristoph has done this since… since I can ever recall."

"Done what? Lied?" Ema asked, beginning to think that this was only the surface of the problem.

He nodded, his blonde hair falling in a desirable mess around his face. "That, and for some reason… he always tried to hold me back in the strangest ways. He never wanted anyone to get too close to me. I thought that I could trust Daryan, but…" he laughed, a low and bitter laugh, "…well, you know how that ended."

Pieces of the puzzle continued to fall in place. Ema did her best not to let her horror show as all of those little insignificant details started to make sense.

She had always wondered why Kristoph would choose her. Why date a washed-out forensic detective that was so much younger? Why have her move in when the relationship was so new, and when she couldn't even cook more than instant noodles? It never made sense until now.

As she had always feared, Kristoph had never really cared about her. He only had one purpose in mind: to keep her away from Klavier.

Ema shook her head, "why… why would he do that?"

Klavier shrugged, "it's _Kristoph_." He practically spat the name out. "I wouldn't want to know about half the motivations running through his head."

Ema was inclined to agree. "He never cared for me."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Klavier responded almost instantaneously. "The day he met you was probably one of the happiest days in his life."

She chuckled bitterly, "Somehow I find that hard to believe."

"Believe it," Klavier said, then proceeded to explain the awful truth that Ema had only suspected. "Kristoph knew that your personality and appearance would keep the fangirls… or Gott forbid _fanboys_… at bay. It's true, they haven't dared to try anything since you've started working with me."

For a moment, Ema forgot her melancholy. "This is them on their _good_ behavior??"

"Ja… sadly it is," he agreed, then continued, "as I was saying, you kept them away, and he…"

"…kept me away." Ema finished, watching Klavier's expression, almost hoping that he would tell her it wasn't true. The only response she received was a simple nod.

The mood was somber, and Ema's outlook on life felt grim. How could she be so oblivious to so much? Wasn't she supposed to be a detective? Shouldn't this be the type of thing she could figure out in the blink of an eye?

Ema blinked, suddenly realizing just how stupid her thoughts were. Yes, all of it did make a strange sort of sense! Kristoph was gone now, wasn't he? And even if she couldn't reclaim the past few months, she still had the present.

"Look at us," she laughed, "even now we're letting him get his way. You were right, it _is_ better that we put Kristoph behind bars for good. The world really is better off without him."

Klavier gave her a wary smile, "I beg your pardon?"

Oh. Right. He didn't know, did he?

Sheepishly, Ema dug into her never-ending purse, producing a certain pre-signed photo. "I finally read your note." She explained, "about ten minutes ago."

"Are you…" He was stunned, taking the note and turning it over once, a strange look overcoming his features. "I thought you just didn't care."

"I didn't," she said immediately, then winced, "I mean, I didn't because I didn't read the note, and I didn't…"

_He said he cared about me the most…_

It was one of those times. One of those times that it would be better not to talk. But she did anyway.

"I care about you, Klavier!" She blurted out suddenly, "and I may even… like…. you. A little."

For once, Klavier seemed speechless. Good. Maybe if he stayed this way, she could finally work up the nerve to…

They were softer than she had imagined they would be. Then again, Klavier probably wore lip-gloss 24-7 for his fans.

Later, when her brain actually functioned and could think about things deeper than beauty products, Ema would wonder who initiated the kiss and be frustrated when she couldn't remember, but in the present moment, she could care less.

_This_ was what a genuine kiss felt like. _This_ was what she had really been looking for all this time.

Who knew it would only take failing the most important test in her life, ending up a washed up detective in LA, dating his murderous brother, and braving a constant sea of fangirls to find him?

When the kiss finally broke, she looked into his eyes earnestly and said with the utmost truth, "this is a terrible idea. We can't even go a day without fighting about something, why should I…"

"Mein Gott, du bist schön," he smiled, cutting her off with his words and another warm kiss. It was nice, but…

"That reminds me, there's something I need to do," without further warning, Ema pulled back her hand and smacked Klavier across the face.

He reeled back, stunned again, holding a hand to his cheek, "what was that for?"

"For swearing at me all the time in German!" Ema reasoned, taking the opportunity to retrieve a bag of snackoos from her purse. Just as she was about to open the bag, she faltered, finding Klavier making the strangest face she had ever seen. "…are you going to throw up? Do it the other way, please."

And then, Klavier did the most unlikely of things. He threw his head back, and (as Ema began to shield herself from the puke) he laughed. "Swearing?! You thought I've been swearing at you?"

"…yes… why?" Ema asked, bringing her hands down from their protective position, a sinking feeling suddenly invading her system.

Klavier turned to her, his charming smile for once not repulsing her, his brilliant blue eyes twinkling mirthfully. "Ema, I do have something else to confess…"

"Go ahead," she said, bracing herself for what was certain to be a terrible truth. Well, she supposed now was the best time for him to say it. _Bing it on! How could things be worse than they already are?_

"All those times I spoke to you in German… I _did_ remember what I said," his voice was melodiously teasing as he leaned closer to her, brushing his lips against her neck, then cheek. "From the day I met you, I was telling you how lovely you were."

Ema's face reddened, feeling embarrassed for guessing so wrongly this whole time. "You—you're lying!"

"Nein, it's the truth," he grinned, winding an arm around her back and pulling her close. "I wanted to tell you how beautiful you were, but you would have probably thought I was even more of 'a freak' than you already did."

It was true, she would have.

"So…" he blew out a deep breath, ruffling the golden hair in front of his face. "…I told you in German."

"That… actually makes a lot of sense," Ema reflected, piecing together all of those once aggravating phrases in her mind. "I suppose now would be the time I should tell you I wrote about you in my journal, but you already read about that."

"Nothing recent," he offered, letting go of her to shrug his shoulders and shake his head, laughing as she pushed him lightly.

Their conversation was interrupted as a young magician girl poked her head out of the doorway, "C'mon you two, you already kissed, so wrap this story up! My show's about to start!" Trucy smiled and disappeared back into the bar.

"I think we'd better listen to her," Klavier mused, standing up from the bench and holding his hand out to Ema. "I wouldn't want to know _how_ she knows the things she does and what would happen if she was upset at us."

"For once, I think you're right." She took his hand, not forgetting her bag of snackoos as she stood, lacing their hands together as they walked towards the Wonderbar.

Despite their recent agreement, Klavier lingered by the doorway just a moment more, his eyes bright and his smile soft as he said, "Today has certainly been a long and trying day, and I cannot even guess what the future will be like. But… somehow I can't imagine ever needing anything else than what I have now. Ema Skye, mein fräulein… how about you?"

Ema grinned, pulling him close again. "What else do I need? I've got my snackoos, and I've got you."

* * *

LateNiteSlacker's Notes:

Well, we've finally reached it: The End!

While this is the end of this story arc, you'll probably find Ema and Klavier (post-Snackoos and You) in a few other things. I'll leave those as a surprise for now. =)

Thank you to everyone who has read this story! (Especially those of you who have been with me from the beginning!) I can't say how much your encouragement and support meant to me.


End file.
